Somewhere, someone is crying out – / always.
My heart is heavier than it was last year, / with love.
Don’t shout, don’t beg. When I burrow all the way / to the ears, then you can talk to me.
Once the fig leaf falls off, / All metaphor is disgusting.
Will you be rich? / What does greedy mean? / Does Sir know Midas, where is he from? What is the goat’s name? / Where does the river go?
Your other woman I slipped / in beside my heart like a smooth / bill into a wallet, or a pebble / to rub in a pocket.
It could’ve easily been a scrotum, / but most likely it was someone’s wallet.
In my lifetime I’ve been given two drawings of a fever. One was body within body within body / and some exponential notation. One was lines as if light in slowed sight. Neither fever was mine.
He was happiest when gnawed on by a beast. / But that was just a trick of the light.