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DEVON BATEY WHAT WE PJ GAVIGLIO LOOK LIKE


Two Cups of Tea had you pluck the fingers clean of mushrooms you dug from the woodlands, that was what you wanted me to believe, but I saw through it all completely with my dirtied hands, this j ust made me unsure that I wasn’ t hallucinating.


Clone the bear

cover

a pack of cigarettes a day a mad scientist with a way to fix everythin’ and make nice, one habit to another a chunk of change in our pockets a look both directions, again this fortune cookie mantra you hate what you know but your face is always dead when I say I’ m a clone of the bear a clone of the bear a recharge for your daytime a love life you always imagined, I say it could fix everythin’ a coming to life despite our string a string I can feel inside us your DNA, our shapes, a cigarette I say who has longer legs? me or the bear I’ m a clone of the bear a time to say we say we are the same damn person him and me, we hate each others fortune cookie mantras you hate what you know changes but I eat mine before readin’ , I say Frankenstein depends how much does he weigh? I’ m a clone of the bear a clone of him I say


In the Darkness of Boo-boos In the Darkness of Boo-boos. didn’ t think that was the foot rest. feet stumble and shins lousy with black and blues to greens; too absent minded to go blind. expand your mind they told me all are blind they told me repetitive unrest in the darkness of boo-boos. at the coffee table, and half way there a party stomping on the cat, waking the neighbors. curiosity i yelled after, curiosity.


didn’ t look to nor a burnt t, Didn’ t beam up to see colored

planets white, nor circles in a bag, as a sugar-trip birthday balls never seen before.

easier to be a dog person okay? lashed like a slave to the bar person. repetitive and so stabile in twenty/twenty! um, keep laughing, nod and make nice for that red exit light, no eyes, no excuse, hand upon an unfamiliar wall. fix another asked the barkeep, careful not to spill again with not another word to go onnot another night free of it. another bruise learning lousy Is a racial term, while raining photos in the bin like, why bother? out of sightout of sight. didn’ t mind it, like boy that smarts. not without a speck of pity for those cat eyes, a tail stomped or no. no it’ s only fairly cringe worthy. repeatedly i’ m out of the circle with half my marbles and a whiskey. my legs bleeding from the cornerscat shrieks and cataracts every drunken night. didn’ t even realize, black and white and sepia drunk, drenched in feline, canines and white-guilt not another clue repetitive as cyan or what you, no, no eye contact- no eye contact, i didn’ t drink the kool-aid. i’ m j ust lousya repeat- no trifles here bossman sir.


So Long It smells like apples Everywhere i go, It makes no sense Because that’ s not who we are anymore. At the bank, Maybe caramelized with cinnamon. It smells like apples Since i can remember What it felt like sinking My teeth in and sucking it up. Candy apples. Lurking around every corner That’ s what it smells of It makes no sense, we haven’ t in so long I can barely recall Because of this hell, sweet and tang Apples in every breath Years past it smells like apples The whole world stuck lip to fruit Juice on my chin Hands around you, apples Floating on the wind Masking dog shit like the promise of pie Or heaven knows what’ s to come It makes no sense It smells like apples With no orchard and arsenic In every seed, poisoning The sound it made, red Skin splitting apart, The aroma, What once was Your breath, apples, so long, Rotted and hopeless. . .


To Hurt People That was like the first time I heard most deodorants and antiperspirants lead to alzheimer' s. Do I want to be that gross to the end of my days or do I want to remember what I’ ve done? Something about iron and metals. That steel in her eye reminded me of it, Burned me, like that first time I ever broke hymen. Who was I in the beginning when misogyny was apathy and was that unj ointed, non-consuming save for exactly that. For the moments I still bare the ginger strokes I yet probe deeper into; pretending I’ m nice and understanding, like I am not at all like that. I’ m only missing and memories and my old spice’ s so down to the wire that that’ s the real issue here, not me, it’ s j ust that every time I try to apply it crumbles away and scrapes right down to the fucking bone.


A fee a fie a foe I’ m just a bean Crazy like a bean, jack Two beans up an ass An expression An expression Everything else is ground I made it up once And my size failed everyone Everyone thought i was massive Round and brown Crazy like a bean, jack And my size fails everyone Climb up without a thought I swear it Grow a stalk Out your ugly head Unearthed and so it sprouts I made it up once Crazy like a bean, jack Out your ugly butt


The Mad Scientist Children never hugged turn villainous They break your coffee tables Mid coitus And all they have to say is Why haven’ t you lived, homie? Why haven’ t you bled for what you believe in, Their hands in honey drenched beehives Parents never begged or killed a man They just laid down to die a thousand streams Of tp strewn over lofty maples Never to have lived like a king and still Dying amid spoils and hopelessness. Why haven’ t you crossed that line that you believe in, Why haven’ t you forgone repetition?


What Not To Do When Being Your Name Here Suspicious avalanche fowl Wrung with nonsense And this spice related image And i was before i began this poem And ( parsley) And ( cinnamon) And always the spot of a leopard Fools me undone into naked Tangents of better-than-my-own-farts Tantamount to my own cock in my mouth So rosemary, like Enj oy this what i have to sprayspreading Cheeks eagle Eye sour Thrice licked Into pinkeyedheavens( sage) Or this other image of a pheasant, Above reasons or constant thematic, albeit Admitted gutter stench Of this palatable What the fuck My mouth could feel Before this all

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You Burn In Boston It’ s all OK, it is all OK Clone the bear ‘Cuz I could promise The Red Socks won Dude The World Series

You You For You You

rip your gums back rip your gums back the flavour burn in Boston clone the bear

You burn in Boston You gouge your throat out To breath orange Chakra Or marij uana Some Heebeej eebees

Have the seeds Dude You suckle Titty I could promise It’ s all OK, it is all OK You gouge your throat out

Have the seeds Dude Tell a story Break your skateboard Breeze yo’ Mother Tra la la today

Or marij uana ‘Cuz Break your skateboard The world series The Red Socks won Dude Clone the bear Cuz

The Red Socks won Dude It is all OK, it’ s all OK So eat your heart out Clone the bear ‘Cuz The Red Socks won Dude

It is all OK, it’ s all OK I could promise You burn in Boston So eat your heart out Americana, oh California

It’ s all OK, it is all OK Some Heebeej eebees I could promise To breath orange Chakra Americana, oh California

Breaze yo’ Mother Some Heebeej eebees It’ s all OK, It is all OK Tra la la today Tell a story


Wish On Wet Leaves follow you to the greenname garden on the other side of the waterfall ( such soft scandalsa hand’ s parade- the space of you) and on a candlelit wall, ballerina, we make shadows like monkeys gnashing teeth over the last


of the bones. through the water. on the other side of every last moment ( we swim in and combine) i waste not shouting your name. alasaandra come as lightening. alassandra make these lips limper. hung from the limb your hands begging for one more, one more gripping and i wish on wet leaves you go drip, drip, drip. alassandra. the other side of ( alassandra) the room in your eyes for us ( to live to die insideyou pulling hairs yesme a wakebloom) to stretch our legs and run into the warm ocean together, Hand and hand, our free hands ( paradise) with one last ripe heart a piece, and i imagine you sing, yes please do go on, on, on tropical sonata alasaandra.


Let' s meet twice a week Gallons of eye j elly from person to person, gathered, lined on the shelf on the wall. Crazy luck like butterflies in a mailbox. Can’ t stand the sight of your own j am? Come stare down a gimp clown in the eye. Down the barrel. Call it tearful. Call it a j ar of what you like A Salty sweet piano key phantom white and black. It ain’ t for forgetting Or j itter buggers j ust laughing fools. Call it a feargasm Lapping up this freakshow, A dark figure in the kitchen, one more Memory of home milking out the sockets. Delicious, collected, dated preserves. Just like mammy would make. Salty little tears on the shelf on the wall, all for the spreading. And you want to know why?


Negative space

left

mpty lue notes I haven’ t spoken to his ghost In two years at least The nothing Just silnce And old cotton smells a crescendo and then was Daddy here? Poor glden me Drumming on a violn

It' s Over, Little Rainbows

back

you said this life is red but all this is is blue you think the best is ultra and i would say that’ s true but Violet all is naught when all is raining through this ol’ palette in these eyes we j ust can’ t agree with you this was where the chorus goes if this was you sober, Ooh yeah all the little rainbows in our heads it’ s over this is where the chorus goes Ooh yeah if you were sober little rainbows


Designed by W. B. St. C Poetry by Devon Batey Art by PJ Gaviglio www. facebook. com/dunce. art

A TREE Branch

WHAT WE LOOK LIKE  

Poems by writer Devon Batey were illustrated by PJ Gaviglio in this limited edition collaborative chapbook published by TREE. Check out more...

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