Inflation

sometimes crushed

not all the time

but crushed,

crushed

to an atomic thinness

by everything

by nothing

not just here

not just there

not just now

not just then

it's all the fucking time

pretty much

these things these nothings

they form a line

mutating

all and nothing

mutating both mind and time

these things

things that get squeezed from me

like the end of a toothpaste tube

then

and only when

it seems that all lights flicker, fade and begin to dim

and then

that little bit

that tiny little bit

the bit that gets sucked back in right at the end

i inflate

i inhalate

i pop into my pores once more

i hop into my sores once more

i slink and sink into my sulky skin

hedging my bets i mould my flesh

and all so slowly from within

the plotting of other forms of sustenance unfolds

it’s only the not knowing that gnaws

the back of my throat is so dry

i’m breathing through my spine

virgin stomach acids bubble in a dull one cell organismic instinctual response

i inflate

i initiate

a state of mind, a spate of find

spinning on a different axis

both in to and out of control

i join with the breath in my lungs

not new just made again

not now but maybe when

the demanding of the expanding

falls prey to the under planning

and eventually

i rise. void of effort as i become more whole

choking out the dust of a thousand surgically cleaned surfaces

i am once more made again

and here i get to play again

ok i’m gonna try this way stay again

but that’s all up to the ways of when

i inflate

i separate

:)