It’s hard to imagine a day
When I’m not scratching
My nuts right at God.
Everyone I love shuffles
Toward the sun & I am
Measuring my chewed
Off fingernails into this
Here bucket. Always a bit
More. Always too much.
So supersonic goes a blur
In the sky & the sweet peas
Shudder. So I’m head to
Head with all of today’s
Ghosts. I stare from
The shadows when the dragsters
Burn by. Rims gleaming like spit
Dangling from the baby’s mouth.
I know you dream of saving me,
As if I were some kind of Chilean
Miner. But my genome is half skink
& I mostly foam at the mouth.
I might say get me out of this hole
But what I mean is I don’t want to be
Trapped up there with all of you.
Watch—each time I put
My foot down, my arms
Raise into the air. Land
That jet. Score a touchdown.
I’ve been told hundreds of times
That I’m a really good hider
When I’m wearing your clothes—
Short black skirt, the pill-box
Hat. But the word on the street
Is that I taste like intensive
Care. So now, I’m preparing
For the deep sleep by snorting
Pepper flakes & slapping
My chest like an Olympic
Swimmer. In whatever time
I have left, I’m going to be
The best disaster I can be.
Crunches. Pull-ups. Protein
Bars. Arms outstretched,
I’m sprinting at you
Like the Hindenburg.
Front page image by llimllib
