and I have broken bread with strangers
their tongues linger with my own on the crumbs
tomatoes never dance their way out of a salsa
and beauty couldn’t stop the trout mask from slipping
further down the face
longer
against the nose
it couldn’t stop the rain from trumpeting all its fetters
from increasing the pellet size
of moisture on the skin
repetitively
endless
until sheeted
until filmed & undone

holding out for a towel
when there are only napkins at your feet
you lose the trust of others
every time you bellows
all about the drag whether
lust greed & war

again, this September
drink of their wine
find dandies in the lions
and consume the nut in its shell
how many doors need be wrecked
in the name of poetry?
I am not an interminable sufferer so much as
a hotshot strong with defiance
disillusioned and confused
by the romance vs. the truth

serials we see end every week
so totally outdated yet
updated every week
till summer comes around and leads all actors
to some back hell hotel
where gossip spits foam at the mouths of losers
and we all fall down
so much so many times
before the crawling death that eats us

is it so much to keep alone & wide-eyed
ready to fight for death
ready to lose
it all?

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