unsound

Children grow lying in swimming pools chock-full of chlorine,
study calculus, get married, have children, swallow
snowflakes and raindrops, watch the bones
become soft like water, ears lurid like flowers.
Imagination contaminates the eyes; they don’t
close anymore. Widowed monarchs
of renegade lands, priests of the Church of Erratic Echoes
fill cracked mugs and mirrors with coins and horseshoes.
Judas wearing pancake make-up streaked with sweat
sleeps upright in the last phone booth on earth crammed between
a planetarium and a circus, fired from the latter
for overindulgence toward the hybrids of pike and sheep.