That name
Once forced showers of
convulsions through my teeny tiny veins
Fluorescent, whispering
shakes
Snakes
as they went down in tornadoes
throughout my spinal column
Wholly
It penetrated protuberances
Prolonged its hallucinogenic
effects with home scents
Cookies Soup Blankets Sweat
That name
Floated above me
And it’s owner, the
fabricated and the real one alike
Gold star goblin and a teeny
tiny Christmas tree
Absurd
And throbbing in a holy
strobe of enigmatic twinkle
Casting five-fingered
plastic shadows
Against the ugly mauve
thread-bare carpet of adolescence
We were young
And that name meant
salvation
The blinging register of it
a tri-syllable demigod
God, I was dumb
I’d assigned to it the
vitality of gravity
Like oxygen to fire like bounce
does to rubber
But it found it’s own truth
through cynical cylindricals
Turnings of facts
And almost
A cyclical cyanide infusion
to this heart
From it’s slumbering flush
A red palm
And a pipe
That name found solace
That name found life beyond
the spring of my personal pronunciation
