[ToC]

 

CHAIN X

Riley Bingham

I know nobody will see my status but sometimes, when I am bored, I go into the garden, I cover myself in earth and pretend I am a carrot—ancient shard, a bone, a landmine. Now playing: Awesome Mix vol. 383; R&B in the outer-galaxies (how did this formula so long elude, you thosnd Hollwd seeds?). Splash about I do in terran tube-top enveloping, of o-horizon worm and root; would you believe I was (not long ago) a respected private dick? Now I'm a coorat & coconut oil won't hang on my hair. Being with you here tonight / would feel so right, if you still knew my name or face and that I watched you, here from the shallow soils (I am a carton). A tomcat dug me up bit me and spite oute the bitter—the moon was that night low, no-music, no-dance. I cover myself with earth. A clam. A little dust on the butt, all you need, 'tigone. Your story is mine but like, telephone, you know? Or don't you. I don't know you. I wonder if you ever danced, or covered yourself in earth, singing I fought the law and pretended you were a beet. You are such a beet. If there were a star-chart, you would be beet for sure. And we would kiss like we were in girls' school again, only this time with a sense of discovery. A star-blossom. If you were a StarMouth quiz about girls' school, you would totally be the forbidden rooftop, playing Dolphy licks on your saxophone instead of at counseling (let's talk all about flak jazz, soon (and our brothers)). Still can't believe your mom named you that. God, Yokohama nearly killed us with boredom. We only survived by punching / in the code, to make our world turn to moths / and up and up. Just kids on the slope / running home to spin Sam Cooke forever and slurp up the special sun (and up, up) (Tender sun). If I were a StarMouth quiz, I'd be an herb-rubbed loin, rotting so hard that the flies who came back for me died of the stinke, perished all over your desk and its steel-presséd scrapts and coffee and the friendship bracelet made of wooden mood rings I fashioned you in return for the piano of dollars. Do you remember how cold we were, how proud. I'm here in the garden. I am the orange carrot. Come and get your love.

 

 

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