inside the machine

a help line, truncated at two feet away.
pink eye in the morning, lovers take warning.
groggy post haste fever in the aftermath
of simulated life. one fundred dollar alarm
clock simulates into a peeping tom with a sawed
off shotgun. bright green shirt. torn plastic
red think in the bush, in the brush, in the what
are those bubbles from river. imagine dashes.
imagine punctuation. imagine tone, released
into the sky, a red balloon parting the sees.
believe it, if penchants were purses, platitudes
would fly. work tires making their sounds. all around.