YOU CAN NORMALLY FIND ME AT THE LIBRARY OR TARGET
That’s what I was doing when you pulled
My eyes out of my mouth and my two upper teeth were
Protruding from fruit skins.
Walking in the rain would have been great except I am a photo of a bluejay
Looking at dead animals.
We should walk more.
WOLF (THE GREEN WOLF)
When I got home this morning I sniffed your asshole on my finger for an hour.
I tried watching TV (Price is Right) and all the contestants were cooking.
My eyes kept focusing on their incomplete tongues and steaming foreheads.
I’m amazed by how many leaves fell last night.
I haven’t been conscious of breathing for years.
I can’t tell the difference between the wind and a leaf.
Her never moving breasts are combing my hair.
Yes and no are my answers.
I’m studying about living long enough for a coffin to suck my dick.
I study nothing and do nothing, reasoning more irritating art.
A cemetery fills with every answer.
Bodies and water rot in horses.
On the road on my phone,
I look up each stone.
I replace my phone with the moon.
The moon is not like my phone.
It should be nicer.
Then I won’t stand on a chair.
RC Miller lives in Metuchen, NJ. He is the author of Surviving Beyond Recognition, I Love Pet Head, and the impending Abstract Slavery, co-written with Gary J. Shipley.