the rim of my hat

leaks because my palms are
owned by an old man

the rim of my hat

i’m ripping  a grin so very  full
of bites experienced

my withering skull

hats have always designated
who eats the ripping morning guns

a bath underneath tits
spraying the thing

my skull swallows

the last time i saw a decent sky
i slipped in to my bed, red with shame
piano, litterbox wads,  jetting shards and fragments
a lesser animal that asks
“what vessel am i?”

my sleeping skull

i saw rabbits and lions poke at the moon
with softness and sharpness and quarrel phrases

swinging tits
swing along my lips
lick drops of jungle humidity
rolling beach fish stagger out of the tides

the cauliflower  lawyers
the  Chinese elected fish:
pound piton aluminum loop
a heavy horse hay-mouth cloud
lip-licks
but the northern currants
pulled of pants and badges
whip off the safety vest and warnings

the animal arrives
no matter what
you sat you
want

gore slips out
tongue-wrapped cunt

Text and Images © Andrew Auten – All Rights Reserved