Hume’s Suicide of the External World

the hanging man wandered out of a moonshine dream
smuggled dope in pelts and gold in a Risk game
             that cheated his confidences by the dozen
time being, Moot’s pond compressed the blue
a brand-new pond began to self-destruct
morning jackhammers fed underground ponds
their kinetic fury melted down the public, exposing another
there he found a pass in alien rain and dragged ass
kicked himself out of himself, said the note
weighed one miracle against a fifth
soft spiders criss-crossed the night interference
             liquored the branches
asleep, he fell out of hours on fire
its wings stabbed at him angry
he walked out on the roof reshod in tin cans
             electromagnetic blue lure
outlandish blue of his tongue and palm
threw an ambsace and a score of dreams rolled
if he had an eye for every eye on deck
            I want to shoot a gun
            I want to come down
his speech had left him overly alert
renaming the domain and its potent pheromones
he saved some sounds that had wanted to die in his mouth
and listened at the other end of deserve
headless, out of the state blue
out of its panic grass shook out his hologram
             signed Asphyxia, signed Arctic Cat
his walking stick made stars along the scavenger’s path
touching off oil fires in the dice’s outcry
their music confused him into affection
for a dynamite belt and Zero pond
time tranced and put him on ship
a black-voiced bird recognizing his torture
signed his full name on the slanting shore
he weathered genital waves to quit having a curse
then a blue man crawled out from under a horse
whose rusted bit hushed his greedy depictions
his haunches were meat, signed Nitid Piss
and no dragoman staggered out of candyland looking for him
he had never mouthed something so dead sweet
             signed Sugar Melted on a Sidewalk
the chalk outline of him thieved the looks off a bottle
another coast unhung the spectral blue
            to drink sea water, coat your mouth with bird fat
            to look down from the sky, use ataxia
a man wrote his note on the wrapping of the rope
vendetta-tethered, his telepathy crested
he left a note in a mailbox abducted by mudflats
the consequence continually shifts
once the map locked, he tripped out of a torn place
             his head full of broken asphalt
during a mistake he walked out of my forehead
making my own mind very hard for me
dragging its chain of islands insane islands insane