(no subject)

[kazukiraven]

I am being taken in increments,
the pieces weighed and
divided according to value.
customs just loves me:
crate on empty crate
crystal doorknobs missing
from perfect houses,
chipped away in degrees.

Sixty-five degrees
in Providence.
the canals are thawing,
running hotly southward
or, at least
that's what they used to do.
No one sees them anymore
and the memories
are like continued articles
in newspapers with
insides chewed away.
The teeth of memories
slick, venomed,
breathtaking,
chewing
the insides away.
headlines and headlines
and pages you cant
turn to.