Plastic coats I smelt into cross eyed
Helmet slits on hogs’ heads curl by,
And the sailor’s life is the life
I can see through the spray and dyes

Past the plastic coasts with their
Trees oscillating and rimming,
An apex of hammock rescue missions
Of domestic animals and a collective

Sigh rings from their laminated lungs.
Smoke limps up around my art-core
Nostrils and I rest my arms on the head
Of the nicotine rusted old boar.

Animals, oh, cannibals go right straight
All the time. Who said that I had to eat?

Veins stuck in their teeth dripping the thin
Plastic layer like breaths and I tremble,
This water is boiling, though, so animals
Don’t swim, so cannibals can’t get in.

I can’t remind myself of wind chimes
Right before I eat, right before I
Fill my stiff, latex-coated head with
Thoughts I can relate to on a level
So close to cannibalism, so remote
And primal.
I close my mind and drool diamonds.
Some good lines in here, but it just feels like a little bit too much effort went into making his feel distant and cold. This ruins the effect of some lines and limits what you can do with it. Needs to be a little less forced and a little more natural, to let it flow.