Webster Hypomania by Cody Davis

I can learn a new word and become it.
My shoes patter consonants across the floor
or smear them against the tile when I'm barefoot.
My arms dangle vowels past my knees,
they swing like a pendulum and whistle
like, "eeee" or, "iiiii" or
swoosh with, "oooo's"

I clap out syllables like a 3rd grade class,
or from a distance,
I look like an out of date hippy
trying to keep beat
at an out of date hippy concert.

I juggle sounds in my throat,
throwing knives that slice
thinly into the most profound tomatoes,
toughest metals,
more tomatoes,
and then shred thin feeble minded paper.

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