deadlocked lifeguards

disembody your facelift footwork fingerprints

            upon this openmouthed trailhead
            toward the secondhand headbands

of the ponytailed brokenhearted:

                        the barefoot backyard fistfight
of two boldfaced knuckleheaded toothpicks—

“better than the firsthand handcrafted tailspin,”
                        says a levelheaded eyesight

brainchild,

“of a breathless heartache handgun bloodbath.”