A full eye of me in you
of bacon ‘them’
of a smashed blister and goddamn
I’m sorry we agreed one time, card-legged cartoon.
And bicycle wan – the memory of you has me reluctantly concerned
about a long man feeling okay in cocktail regalia.
And we wonder if J_____ tension could look already-repaired
by bakeries and baby winds
and the many lips kissing the windows,
though punk daughters are taping up the holes.
On one side we have messy trees
On the other, cans of young wasps.
We shrink, we say
“Help, already. That’s the smell.“