what brush have you brought

what brush have you brought
orange, tangerine
I rinse my hair
with Listerine

I rind my hours
with mattress sores
my star spurs twinkle
just like snores

I orange my eyes
to see through my mouth
the teeth I am missing
I blame on the moths

once I became (b)light
burned dull apathy
patient in the gallows
of air therapy

I dream in the shallows
of my lungs’ draughts
with nothing to show –
a handful of aughts

if I only had staples…
if I was raised in The Maples…
now all that is left of my head
fits neatly on this bed

so what brush have you brought
orange, tangerine
don’t matter the size
just that it’s clean

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