Scarab

He's still in the shower And I've just done so much My hat is soaked and frosty My coat is dripping from its hook My slut strands are out Perfect timing I had made it back for the exodus High waisted pants and short cut jackets No hoods Faux fur White Converse In the sleet Through the rivulets and tributaries of mud Sliding diagonal on Euclid Hi hi this is Kylie we're doing wonderful I felt the nip at my digits I feel, only now, the circulation lacking Grumbling exhaust Spills out blue into the cyclonic air Sprays a whipping Star ahanging from fishing wire or twine Eight points of red tissue paper Afront an orange wall The LEDs slowly cycled The voices spiked through slush I was alike with my beanie I was alight with longing I was adrift in a tide of smelling salts and Reeboks I was lifted from my feet by the scream of banshees I was tugged across east and West by the whispering winds of curiosity The churning bile reached up and flooded the topsail And the rudder was cracked I hummed into my phone I conducted myself to tears The car alarm harmonized and kept time Pulsing away west out to eleventh Where merch dreams Tucked in and sauntered by Jet flights in your inbox A weekender tote and tight clothes One way tickets for nothing nice It's just a normal walk A couple blocks and we'll hit a couch White jeans and a Prada clutch with a little chain That black triangle beckoning Drawing me in and in and in Through the gemstone Through the colonoscopy camera Through the mine Across the uncharted swells Past the village With its wheat and its Cacti and the iron golem Hitting like Sancho Spitting like poison Spinning and spinning around and around the park Beaches and benches Pike and Snu White jeans Gold belts Lakers jerseys and bare shoulders steaming as The ice crackles against Blotched red and covered in salt Burning more as the scud picks up