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.