i'm on sinking sand

[spooned]

i need
all the lights on
the windows open
the heat up
clothes on
that no one has ever touched

i'm allergic to certain thoughts
the way that Jack Nicholson hates germs in that one movie
with the gay artist and the dog
i have to compulsively wash them
like a raccoon in a stream
and set them back down again
like they were on fire

i don't really have any idea
what I should do with them
where they go once they're sitting back where i threw them
so I put my favorite anti-cold armor on
and go to the library, which closes in three minutes

i just woke up from a horrific dream
and the feeling sank into my chest
and stayed there. Now two
hours later,
many layers of clothing later
i feel like i'm hiding from the cold
maybe if i take it off
all of it,
and stand in the sharp chicago wind
i will somehow become cleaner and
more pure
flash freezing kills viruses
and holds fruit in the peak
of ripeness.