Ken Cormier
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Which membrane do I activate? Which membrane? Which am I? Why have I faded from this picture? My inner toad hops rhythmically, but to what end? Am I moot? This difficulty is manifest in yeast rising and peculiar smells lingering and then fading like smoke from a significant settlement. My anger and sadness mix to produce an alienating odor.

wilted. barely fascinated by the glittery gleam of yellow light on wet black ink.

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stained pink

and round

like steak

stabbed, my liquified organs

shrink back,

evaporate from the sand

and blacktop.

Turncoat scrotal skin flake membrane,

like a stick insect

like a silly shirt

like puking green

in silhouette

on the telephone.

heavy levitation

very contagious

five-point pen

erasing procedures

mix music with zen

capable caveman

relates to the greats

he camps on a cone

on a cliff with a scone

smoking in the back

he's a solid citizen

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Crap catching spatula

Bastards on ice

Finicky lickers

Faster and quicker

Bedtime for everyone

Down with your dirt

Fancily rancid

Broken and hurt

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Stomach empty and head removed. Spine slithering alone in the back of the room, dehydrated and weary from walking. This natural disaster. This comprehensive mishap compliments of a complete misunderstanding.

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sugar eats me

soft

creeps right in

takes

my sense of angel

hair

to rooms filled with

blank

mannequin smiles

and

craves my gravy sense

organ

teeth with frosted cakes

makes

me spin in rumble

bowls

like Link Wray's ratchet

play

in summer gray candy

rock

sticky bug June luck

day

WHICH MEMBRANE?

[an interactive poem]