Gary Jacobelly

signs of displacement

fresh baby wire g

un machine p

iano fear a

nxiety

desire grind 

restless fuckyearning

 dirt calm-dirt

the

all to what and why 

we breathe and die 

because

the great

generation pallbearer

comes now into being

as we

trade Birth for Death and Dy

ing

 not special death

he becomes spirit who v

omits care forth 

as cobras enamored of higher escapes

she shops and buys sensible sh

oes—the dedicated brand has proposed a style t

hat feels now attached

a feeling of use

 to everything

there is a thin Fluffing to the en

tire body 

has faded in push p

art of your brain t

his Body puddle my daily out-filled with s

kin alerts 

afresh, alive

in our perfect little surgeries

inside our heads

the

situation the 

not spider for to passion toys

 spiders living on their own spiders

because skin 

uses less electricity

actual m

eat, only snake

whose unknown h

and burns down a cigarette

 to fingers 

only to tell

that

your Rioting tigers 

may not go where you point them 

awaiting miracles and s

aints that never come

until

 amen

spinning on driftwood tells you more

The bed sleeps beneath you and awakes in the morning

A dog lying in the window warns the sun

Your coffee takes a long sip of you

he car drives you (back) to work

Your job works you(r head) into hours

Driving without a car is a required torture 

Asshole rioters heal you

You darken the night

Spinning driftwood so quickly 

Tells you more

All colors and dawn

Desperate for miracle

etiology

watching too many people die

for only to care

and know miracles

passing

this is not the grey-haired dawn

this is not the white-bearded sun

this is not the end

the Jesus of hate comes

to

ground 

abrading the fuck

into

all fuck

when misery is a miracle 

certain dark miracles

tell us

we’re all pigs in heaven’s style 

it makes you fuck into

your shoes

of cancer and habit

into a ghost that laughs and

into the crowd of 

people saying jump 

when the building says no

things fill my head

arranged astride

some

song-grease

climate-grief

said I was green

and selfish while

she is such 

a scrawny girl

short as she is thin

with buck teeth and a lazy eye

and warts along her chin

but

she'll toss a man like a rock

when she's gnawing on his...

and while we watch

we watch so many of us

die

for only care

and know

we are learning 

we are such fragile miracles

so many of us

 die 

for lack

of thought and loving

for lack

of any small thing left

in the perfect autopsies 

for lack

of the most common place miracles 

for lack

of actual meat miracles 

other than admit

our wronged sight and self-righteous slaughter

and we

being the fragile experiments of our own

choices we are 

we are such filthy miracles