I represent the head that is also a pumpkin, sitting at your doorstep

Photo by Taylor Foss on Unsplash
I wake up on my body's time, 
not a time permitted, 
I didn't ask permission,

I like to watch the stars
shoot each other.

Mangle me now, I dare you. I've run away. I've seen the sky for the first time. I don't choose burdens with cattle,
I don't seek to be yoked with those
who insist I pull harder,
I am full, large and bloody, I bear kisses as though my breath doesn't stink, I talk as though I haven't slurred, the tax collector collected and I'm wealthy,
The paper burned
bearing my name and my picture defaced
that's been buried
have appeared on my enemy's dresser

The carved pumpkins
on doorsteps laugh with me,

I don't represent the cemetery,
but skeletons applaud,
Their bones rattle,
their rags swish
in caskets.
I'm on top
and I bear the light for them.

Flames whip my skull from
inside. Don't be fooled.

I hear crickets talking,
persistent till Aten grabs
them by the throat
to tell them there's tonight
but not today.

The window blinds gave my girlfriend stripes
that change by the minute
and I believe I purchase mine
at the dollar store
along with liquid they dare call coconut
I wear leopard print
to fit in at parties
because my altering form confuses.

This is a time for ticker tape

Men standing at the corner
keep throwing rose petals at me.
They won't stop. They say,
I wrote you a birthday card.
I ask, what for?
They say I need to eat
and get more sleep.

People playing basketball
shout when I walk by,
they ask why I haven't stopped
to practice my jump shot.
One of them offers me a soft drink.

Eat, they all say.
Sleep, they all say.

Barbers attack me with clippers
every 3 days.
A random at the bus stop
tried to give me a massage.

People keep breaking
into my apartment to fluff my pillows.

Eyes rarely follow me when I appear
in button down and slacks form,
they're rather led
by a waving car shop balloon figure
called by the wind.
Breathers lack the visual variety,
a product of humanity manipulated
more funnel for vision.

Listen to the crackle,
the flame my mouth emanates
and let me know if your back nerve
is rattled by night creatures
huddled in the corner of your bedroom.
I speak for them.
I represent the head
that is also a pumpkin,
sitting at your doorstep,

The rare anomalous burn
is found on your morning
paper. When no one is looking,
I'll speak to you,
when the moon is out
to outline the wire branches
choking the sky.
Witch laughs reflect
from parked cars.
They are in partnership
with me also,
an association of ghouls
with glossy cards
whose hands emerge
from laptop screens
at computer stores.
I've run away to join
the prestigious collaborative
of the skull and bones screen saver.
incorporating lava into your
everyday technology.

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