The specialness of pinching

at the headache that is giving comes.
A stage at burning with my memories this reading remains
a manner of evidence of--you have to give up the honey--a single
naptime which was sleeping goes
to fetch a cheap banana.
Her openness to fitting in the outfit that is shrinking gives
out, she grows and people know it, some say something
everyone sometimes doesn't get a raise out of her,
His stickiness to sticking around the house where leaving suffocates
is still alright.
One dizziness for drinking up the whisky which was leaking throws
up and makes headlines out of ledes
which need too many verbs and don't tell anybody much at all,
they hide the exclamation marks but I see them.
Your cake for dinner on the table that was leaning became
stale because of the fork's inertia or yours
which kept the wall pale and vibrating from the homehavingness
that gets sheets like expensive bandaids
that only fall off in the bathwater.
Ten fingers from typing on the keyboard that is crumb-filled cramp.
Their floor of vinyl under couches where the dust stays buckles
but doesn't give out, even if no one remembers the mopping.
The trees of the month in the sidewalk marked by paper grow
My headache of the species on the cement that also grows grows too
Your listening to the water from the roof that is falling stops
The sentence on the brainpad for the thinking that is needed stops
The seemingness of stopping at the stopsign which was wrong stops
The pleasure of closing up the open that is breezy comes.