Let the Words

old translucent green pop bottles litter everywhere filled with flesh and tears and hate and love and guilt and joy and rage and pity and remorse hurling black rusted tire irons and crow bars green bottles scream and weep and laugh and vomit and defecate shattered shit frantically shards of green in the lawn on rainy days a naked body haphazardly lays bomb it all, break it all a frenzy of life lived is a garden of glass that cuts you deep it is never greener so lay and roll and bleed bleed deep

My roommate was nearly killed by a rusty muffler. My rusty muffler. It tumbled, and ricocheted off wet pavement right at her She laughed. Brought the broken pieces by hand, said I'd fix it someday Radio's never worked, orange lights illuminate buttons that have no use, they're pretty in the night reflections Broken knobs flick them on and off on and off on and off on and off Before my muffler's attempted murder a chorus of tired pistons, rubber belts, fluid cylinders, mechanical leavers and stuttering window wipers occupied the cabin hall Now there's only a rumbling to be heard beneath my feet, loudest in every gear rattling organs under thin layers of fat It chokes the need for talk We are taken by the roar from place to place, I flick the orange button lights on and off on and off on and off there's need to yell at times "stop it..." I follow the white lines with my eyes until home, the howling dies, our voices are left to fill the void We listen to