I’d read somewhere that writing was another kind of taxidermy.
I’d read somewhere control is another kind of pining.
My body is a physics of attrition. Thirst Trap is my favorite karaoke song.
Palm on the belly. Palm on the chest. Only the right
hand should rise when the breathing
correct. You can tell where an object is in space
Or how fast it’s going but never both
At the same time, is all I can think at the mic.
Heisenberg said it and I read it
On a condom wrapper that I handed
The only man I ever took home
From karaoke. He tells me I should feel
Desirable in any space & I knew
It then, this whole craft Lifting the wing
Rapt at the raptor diving from high
Instead of the mostly riddled
asphalt or concrete or the bald turf.
I wish I could craft
A moment like this
Or like that To always feel
Ozone I mean one way, in
Stead of the water urging
From my lips.