“untitled” by Troy Baillargeon

                      mucus veined Me;

           Penny was in the parlor counting time on her groundhog wrist skinwatch. i was riding a sick horse all serpentine long the patomac. clouds choking on glass last i saw of them. i haven’t looked up in hours. there were hooks through my ribs (ground so Laughing! fun time yes?) down sur le monde. ever y thing am ic ab ly terr ib le.

           the furnace—too!—was digesting itself hungry. i felt cuckold in my own skin. heard mention of mentioned talk. (DO TELL, PRAY LADY DAY!) the dimensions began to shrink. all these Snakes in my Hello, the smell of gel and i didn’t know the place.
i never knew the place.