spiral of twin sycamores

rip-house tornado destroy path kevin is not god
but am person a person, as i am he is

a conglomeration of organic rubble, pinned to earth's flesh and kilter filtering through sewage drains with better made chip sliver cellophane

stoop, recollect, swing lower--
the last humans i whisper to your pillow who touched us
the humid air
, in each rumination
guts. chew, throw up in the throat

churning butter, whey and fat separation of two Siamese twins


open faucet, look a rock stone-on

and analyze. how opposite the landscape appears in your face lakes