And Once You've Fulfilled the Role to Survive

Chipping a tooth on stale baguette,  
the mouth is just as wide.  
The sky,  
just as wide as the sky  
swallowing the sun  
though, in streaks, cracking the aquarium,  
and rusty blue drops through wedges of rays  
with starfish pouring down the breaks of foliage.  

The mouth is just as wide.  
With both hands, piledriving a loaf  
and watering stony bits with a styro cup.  
 
The concrete ottoman fumes in wind.  
Dust bunnies overpopulate the roadside and up the ankles,  
and rolling craniums wheel a thought machine on main roads.  
The souls air buoyant determinations.  
 
Almost, the ouroboros of a pointer and a thumb  
cookie-cuts the speaker of the fair,  
but they project their frame tall  
and anchor their voice with an open wing.  
 
Mouth,  
more massive than the carnival float,  
stuff urban fantasy.  
The palms small,  
the lense their feeling shapes won't suck spirit of a life-size dream.  
 
Now, the baguette is down with a flake-peppered cheek.  
The dirt on the lap scurries in a motion to stand.  
 
Horizons starve by the humble seal on their lips.  
Perching malnourishment,  
ginormous mouth of a body of tiniest dandelion seed,  
open the mirage of a Fata Morgana in consumption and need.  
Eat and too  
prosper in this world.