My name is Jelly Death and I am no creator. I am no creator as when I have tried through photo, through words typed and scribbled, through copper and silver melts and statuettes, through models, through sing and scream—my worlds are so grayed and malformed that I cannot bear to let them be. I am Jell-O Concentrate, ester sugars made in chrome vats and measuring glass. When I was born I was so afraid and I do not know why. When I was born I was not hit. When I was born I was stretched out on a conveyor belt and poured gently into boxes and the boxes were stacked. All the boxes had words, all the words had facts, the facts were not facts, but measurements. Were facts measurements? I am not sure, I am no creator. A creator has facts. My box was a creator, in part, of me. Sometimes when I feel homesick I put my mouth on the showerhead and let it disintegrate me. Hours later I reform and my always dying ideas reform too.

look at the crafts you made when you were six years old
you will witness just
how linear your life is
very, is the answer
In your drawings will be all
your
secrets, angers, things you fetishize

laid out naively
only how a child could
be so stupidly open as that

 in gold and silver glitter glue: your missing best friend

 malformed letters marking your first wet dream

it’s all there
buried for being so honest

 the plans were laid out
now the plans are hidden
do not ask about the plans

I am furtively awful playing at becoming openly awful in an endearing way again
Only, though, a child
can be as stupid as that

Somewhere in the desert there is sand being blown into someone’s eyes

There is a centipede that lives, snug, in a two centimeter gap under a rock by a hiking trail

The person with the sand in their eyes is walking on the trail

And because of the sand in their eyes they walk off of the trail and trip on the rock

Where the centipede lives

Crushing the centipede with its home

After blinking a lot the person turns around, walking lightly on their stubbed toe, to go home

The person thinks, “Why was I hiking this late anyway?” 

friends have love

always

famly me

always me

names desirean an and an im always son

son friends are

im named me my an desirean

famly have call

wont people piercings

down something bring

be me

me be down

be piercings

and down know wont named

an down

be an names son always famly

an me people to person

an friends named 

My top row of teeth is a weight activated button

Which if I can press hard enough, lets all of the tension out of my head

But my teeth are cracking

so

there

is

the

problem