shell in my egg - me in my wonderment (art)

clean cut

clean cut silence (suit color: room)
his mouth was most sharp shut
rusty unused pack of razor blades
cardboard and packing tape
every thought -an overused dulled down box-cutter
another arrow in the haystack another milky eye in the (whistling pot and)gray-matter
i wore targets as eye-glasses had bulls as hands or rubber gloves to grab the most green grass
my horns in my mouth i take the pill by the tongue bull-shit lazy eye sleeping with its lens to the chalkboard
(social moth(or butterfly) jar sleeping with its lid up against the ice)
ice tray shaped silence (radio-frequency: refrigerator)
stove and cigarette smoke
his mouth was most itself in a loud room
rusty bike in the rain
down and poor
strongest muscle: shovel
the plate in front of me
the drink sweats like fat and swollen feet too high in the elevator dripping down my sleeve
ice on my dreams head on my shoulder pads fold in my white flag flush in my suit
bullshit and deception in the upperdecker cleaning out my teeth with a radio antennae
or with a feminist’s broom brewing in the brown out power was handed out in bank-account order
outside of taking it with my face as a mask
with my hands as hard drives my mouth a money bag in a walk-in closet collecting dust and dated stamps my tongue was obsolete postage won’t make it through the express box
counting ponies in my cardboard sleep head full of fences i mow on one side in straight lines making circles
his mouth was most whole closed
shelves stocked with the greatest candy never sold
rusty box cutter in your (packaged)sugar
(bony)eyes digging through the doggy bag
like razor blades through packing tape
every thought -a re-used box another packing-peanut
(another elephant in the room to feed)
another elephant in the room to feed it to
loud as a well dressed man in a church his loud was pale a starving elephant
no tale ,only bank to tell only stacks of words only layers of dust
only dead and gone ideas only furniture for it build (up) on
his loud was the newest chair the most recently bought book end or chase pillow
covering its head the ceiling was my hands ticky-tacky as jacket rope was my tie
To tongue, Dear mouth,
we wore this yesterday and the word before that
i’m talking about how i can’t talk
i’m talking about how i can’t talk
teeth in a collar gums on the bottom of my shoe
foot on my fork (hasn’t been washed in over 4thousand miles)
knife to my silence
the chicken to my neck
i scream all at once
(into a beaten pillow)
at the frozen computer
(as if i was a microwave on thaw)
(his mouth was most itself on the stove ,in oil (with other meat)
to tongue, dear mouth
i’m talking about how i can’t talk

with this reverb (with this echo) in my mouth

(suit color: nude)
(suit color: anatomy)

shell in my egg - me in my wonderment

the banks paid upfront for the deluge
she talked to me like i had box seats
the memory pays upfront for its debt
wishes it still owed something on its first kiss
carries it like a hole in its pocket
or paper-cut in its wallet
snap-shut shutter-mouth - a cat-house and dried-pen
dog-face for the break-bell - put it on frozen steak
knife in my computer case - swelled up helmet and memory space
recycled information - charged upfront for the refund
five scent deposit -all down on what i owe you
the values we held paid for themselves with their own debt and obligations
dark-matter keeps her smile curved like grades and still-learning on-ramps
the traffic and floods paid for fema by us and our exhaust - her tired muscles were
smoking - a wet camp fire (an on fire manager – pink slip in the sun)
a lobby in heat -won’t pick his umbrella -i fell asleep thinking about the sleeping pill i
climbed into like a foreclosed on clay-roof shack scratching its shingles digging toward
the memory -an extinct form of gas fossil
horsepower wings and pig-pen bank-vault-heart with cribbage-holes counting itself in
my memory taps its donkey-shoe - the customer snapping for a saddle - knows what to expect
money only in their head - money only in their head
here comes the s©ymbol (open blouse-and off hat) slurring into the one ,like still high in
the morning -open hat and head bleeding all over all the donated blood
i didn’t pick my heart rate
or blender setting
she talked to me like i didn’t pay for my seats
the banks knew it too
she talked to me like i knew what i was doing to myself
butter knife in my calculator
alzheimer’s on my arithmetic
dog-house on my wrists
memory in the rain-gutters
keys in my throat
measurements of stomach
no run-off
no right shaped roof
no sewer grate that looks right on me
i talk with it all in my mouth at once
every thought paid upfront for its twang
10% juice drawl and additives - grape-drink - powder-flavoring packaging like it was
my parents - signed to a label - me in the stitching - shell in my egg
my memory pays upfront for its incubator
can’t speak - still blue and too free range for the air outside its box
,with plastic/or latex hands ,she talked to me like i didn’t pay for my seat
prayed on her knees like preying on her god
me in my wonderment like it was my empty wallet with papercut-scabs
shuffling around for a comfortable seat
and the right letters on the key
board -ed up satisfaction - kissing-booth stomach and return drop - my emotions parachute
out of me each morning like
abort mission - evacuate dream -emergency fire in someone’s shrubs (working for)-
pruned god -right as a rose red under the ears wet on the back running out of poors and
riches - only so much gold for the tender only so much feeling in the clock
for you
and for me
under a sand-
bag /or castle
the memory pays upfront for its debt
wishes it still owed something (11% interest) on its first kiss
carries it like nothing like a hole in its back-pocket
or purchase-receipt in its wallet
with a bad back (spanked)
and kids screaming
and car alarms barking
the fireworks tonight sounded like the streets of Baghdad circa(insert popular war-
stricken-Afghan-village-here) (with cut-off power and (all our) arms in the air - rocket-
launchers in space - white(and well off) flag in the moon - her firework stayed up
in the air (the longest) -effecting the tides - going off, looked like male-parts (extras)
paid-for-rifle-routine -flipping through the impulse -like a bill of rights -right on her taste
-all over the wood floors -we bought rugs like we were shopping for new tongues –new
ways to say the old -new words for nothing to say) the fireworks tonight went off and
came down like the banks and the levies
the police lights and
all the ambulance caught in one traffic-jam (all the sirens blending into one) -too many
notes in one belt hole (too many bodies in one rope) i went to work like renting out the
holes in me as golf course -kept on my t and cross-eyes -every part of me independent
as blouse- selections (,civil war premises) and fourth’ finales
sounding like the banks falling
(our vision) like levies supporting the crash
and s©ymbol when it’s explained to us
each car alarm sounding different
each dog crying different for its food
pays upfront for its dog-tag
pays upfront for its rebate
no firework i look right under
gunpowder in my hair and hair in my safety-deposit-box
bad insurance in my lungs and license-plates in my chest muscle - dead-bolt on my: “it’s-
really nice outside”
it all sits out there like debt
like everything on me i haven’t done
like what i owe to myself
like what i owe you
the fireworks over miracle-lane -i’ll have my employees start handing out hearing-aids
overcompensating in my whistle while thrusting up into the air
here’s for my vacant eyes with a letter out - my prostitute-stomach (eat off you) - my
Ethiopian-info-mercial future way too long on the be right back don’t touch that dial
keep spinning the barrel only one shot
my memory looked nothing like the doubles i got from walgreens on my debit card
that disposable was great no evening left i put it all on back-up on the external hard
driving drunk into a crash-symbol -a crash-test-dummy crossing the street
asking itself why
i sit around like debt in the riddle
cracks in the cooked eggs


shell in my egg
me in my wonderment

welcome

images..words..and sounds...by brad hamers
coming soon very very soon