the sky is raining gelatin,

                              it sticks to my bedroom window.

           such humbling precipitation,

   rain and hail bottlenecking in limbo.

         my oranges froze in plasma,

    television spoons me lies.

             i’ll chew them up but don’t dare swallow,

      turquoise erodes such shivering eyes.

           truth exists only in backyards,

    on back, sprawled in this land without light.

      i am the seeds in the glass-canned jam, the galaxy,

            the rush of rippling stars, the twinkle in twilight,

                   suckling sky for a whisper of dew,

                shattering shells full of jello,

                       and trying to forget what i’ve been.