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Red dirt all the Summer.

I saw Hell in the arm of a chair

Pillow your blown hand there;

Heaven was 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 chasing,

As my Foot screams, blue-black swellings.

Quotes of the Bible are sounding dumber,

So my Hands Handshake each other.

-

Shaking Hands and Cutting Arms;

A Fence, strung together and darned.

The armposts go slack and angle.

Companion them with Leeches to wiggle.

Why, the ground is a Body complete!

Each blade of grass-hair sweet,

Sap-eyes scattered and glaring,

A Hog sticking out, yelping.

-

The rain kicked up, with handclap,

Light kerosene gold honey crap sacks.

Quickly found my blood Sister

Lay 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 on the ground Forever.

Until I woke up later, circling

To find glass-stored Summer.

The man 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 out for a Doctor,

So I ran to put a Leech on [obscured by faulty printing].

-

Buried in the ground,

Entire American legs;

Fingers coarse-mouthing,

Tugging at Blood in vain.

-

Mud window-strips [?]sioned me.

My arms move 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩,

The Wind blows breathing.

Happy bellow, punch like a 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘦;

Tear clouds in half by the D[?]ns.

(Eyes across the land, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘭𝘺 darting.)

The War changed me now,

Mountained me this Summer.

100 arms, 10 legs and long green-haired.

- Caroliner Rainbow Open Wound Chorale, 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘈𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘍𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 1991

cool story bro