We Lump Days

I was thinking maybe an ice cube
would help relieve the muscle enough
to sooth the twitch of these pesky ethics.
I've been there, been there. So we
led folks to within pelvic distance
in order to show books and fevered conversations
accompanied by acrobats and space hooks.
We were all about elevation and gain.
We maxed out as privilege slumped
over the group. We sprayed out the slits
so they could became carbonate. They fizzled
and popped. Soggy smoke sat heavy on the summer
air, fucked. A tent full of supplies, mostly
a Corvair forum or a Thunderbird forum.
We were all about sternums and throats.
Audibly frank. Politely mutating.
Saline, volition, lobbed. A newly-spangled
voice on the sinister pop horizon.
Less chemicals, more gel of the stars,
more purple mountains, and majesty, and all that.