saturn came to me in the form of a fire-fly
carrying a candy cane .
he said that the light of the sun is language
and it is okay to stare at it for a while –
even when it is most bright .

after the conversion
black box recordings
were repeated over and over and over
while a porcelain ballerina went round and around
on top of the north pole .

i nailed a fuzzy blue sock to the wall
to mark the occasion .

jet set row .
static holy water .
murder by paint
and repeating numbers .
the dolls were dead
before they were
even alive .
eating .
pissing shit .
dreaming .
rearranging .
par excellence
candle dripping wax onto the moon .

the milk is dry
but
the cat is wet .