My New Job

I am      Invested in by a      Huge Fund Heavy                    highquality furniture Sense of heavy Addiction glossy pleasance I was lying  Down on a yoga mat My bones basketing air     Barely draped in skin the basket             Effulged by local Air      Highquality        scented humid air to support          My orchid        Skin Suffuged in this Air expense I nearly floated  Who was my  Body I am comfortable I am comfortable     Flying my spirit On a long leash She is            in the wind I am in the     belle belle jar shellacked and        brittle begins to      ding How can I      From inside this comfort Represent      Hope to No no I am                 Too tempted To think I            Deserve it Rigidly and with effort know my privilege I know my fluorescent doorway A rectangle   Among the ceiling tiles Ordinary flecked coated  1) foam rectangles and one hard white light regularly rubbled 2) glass rectangle these are my choices the ceiling tile                      I would tear in                         behind the Ugly lattice to the   Duct area Unscrew the grille    Smallen myself Into the dark cold  Square pipe To share  My cold  What is in My basket    Bone-basket With the other      breathers/Workers Or through the fluorescent door Means giving up   On going   behind the lattice. All that’s allowed   Through the flow light Is what   Is shined upon The light bends looking at my   Skin and hair   and   green blouse When I concentrate  The light bending All at once         Hooks my outsides Hooks them into itself Now I am absent that I am not / shined upon very small        dusty lizardlike   a  toad    a  turd on a tabletop     corner And the outside of that is hooked away wow my parents hooked away           People on the street   skin and clothing hung on hangers from    electric wires blooming and twisting    swells of breeze leave behind             on the street a fair       weather an easy            weather walk-through I think I’m better    than the walk-throughs because something is left of me that’s what I     think I must be wrong to     think so Would you like to    Eat at my house Fill up your              Walk-through You drive through               Fill it up with tea and sheets water from the toilet These could    be your eyebrows [crayons] these could be your knees, these coasters What could                be your inside? Paper       wadded paper It says something What about              Something sticky For your mouth             Honey Then we will read you      For dinner In my  transitional housing    [dirt ball toad] I picked myself apart   With a fork Connected a wire      Where my belly was Coiled up   the plug The prongs poke hurt This is the part        Light plugs into           My/The outside plugs into             To light up The    shine    is    from    unshiny sewn in place with the little Light hooks     Made a case for me Visible so I retaliated Against the hooks I was    trying       My lizard turd was trying    to    join the other Mud my thrashing         harnessed motored made the light Meanwhile       My toad absorbed pollution from the walkthroughs       High empty thoughts      Funneled   backchannel Won’t you be mine [mind]         Be my thought softening                   the rockmud I will reorient  now          I will claymation That is a scary    Gingerbready mud man walking          You can’t catch me       hole for Your thoughts tunneled invisible     Unreflecting unrepresenter Not wrapped The Sun is here    Also   later and at the same time   the sun burned up and we revolved around it dirt rock warm   dirt rock in the dark                     of coursing around the dark I have made myself the center of the galaxy I am very important to myself must lose this visibility The shine is off perspect while kicking Where do you      think they get the lights from? Burn it up, burn up all the fuel into furious dirt Nematodes don’t need light When I am in a room with forest It is not that myself comes home to myself Selva oscura,  ya Obsecurity of self I considered long and seriously before I was bornt I stood on the street With the hookers Who were selling Disappear into a hole Into Mama but come back out. Go in, boys. Go in and stay there.