A pen bursts in my right pocket
I try to stop it, my fingers blotted
Rubbing off in abstractions
On my face,
the looseleaf page crumpled on floor
A tissue for black tears
My palms face up, charred and seared
As my Papermate bleeds
On a mattress of flesh and bone
Steel-tips pulled back into his lips
As the clicks slow, the spring moans
Melting in my human touch
Cusses and swears
Unwinds and tares open
Swollen ideas from the flesh
Round and smooth... they bubble in ooze
Out into spheres and black jetties
Collecting at the underbelly
Of a plastic exoskeleton, molting
Shedding my prints, the brand
the teeth marks, the spit, my hands
Lift over a trash-can
It's tip top frothing with paper mache
and life
It prays...
As I drop it into forever blue, and wherever black
It's memories are a stain on my lap
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