1.
+ sere crush,
by which you might
mean delusion viewed
through cartoon-colored
specs, new &
ancient variations
on the secret self.
Shelf life halved,
holed up in this
mythic stickiness,
licked as wicked
lips or any mother’s
sun.
Say you need to
salvage no more
savagery than
the so-called
norm.
Say your lips float
like boats
on another man’s
mirage
(visage closed as any
Sunday).
Locked like arms in
mad embrace
or tendrils squeezing
need beyond
reason or
return.
Unless you’re ready
to unzip your
mastered soul.
Still waiting
longer than I
know, why not
applaud your
tardy courage?
Such nervy tips can’t
be wrong.
Unless this inner clench
is what it is
& you ignore us
at your
timid
peril.
2.
All this inconsequence
choking us up
like smoke &
waves,
rocking our hours,
odding our listing
keels.
That water you add
too toxic to inhale.
Open your skin,
reverse your gait,
fence your flaws until
too much flows with
not enough
& seeps the mammal milk
of kindness.
3.
Ask Oedipus what
comes for
halt &
halted.
Dappled & shot with
hollowed shades,
trailing our string
of left selves.
Alone together in
toxic colony,
dodging what we
dole,
waiting for fresh
permission--