Dot

Ointment of sorrow balm me
lachrymose: bear grease and iodine

Have foolish, will wallow
have sphere, will swallow

What if when you die, your consciousness goes the next to last place you went? Next to lost. A random paradise. Practice death now.

In the trust it takes to ride behind someone on a motorcycle on the highway she could make time into riding gloves or buy her own year.

Pencil shaving alimony was ordered paid: a nod to the idea that she lacked for naught.

Measure lipstick used by nautical miles: when a stick is done, wrap the tube in a small square of black silk and bury it.

*

this world is all chingada and we don't know where to put our hands while we stand here.

*

if he apologized a third time for not being a brain surgeon, she would flip open her skull to show wounded brain and explain the advanced surgeries performed by the willing inner ear and how the eyeballs attach to the solar plexus and how when there's no anesthesia or state-of-the-art tools, a surgeon just uses what she has and he has,  so he can too.  There's no choice.

*

No one ever explained what she apologized for uncontrollably.

A blood vessel-contracting breeze blew in, inflaming.

Soft tissue shock: wrap in tissue paper, float in best intentions.

*

secular, cardiovascular scar

cough up Karen,
candle kinetic knowing
kenning home
home sweat whom
I love my drudge buddies
my sludge
my druid buddies

*

sample the copyrighted chords
meant to infect
you with their danceabilly

the song always stops
before I'm done dancing.

Re the mix/ un the nix
flip your lid     shake your sticks
at a two-tone double four time
heartbeat heartache syncopate
bone break

*

cancerous intentions.
Same problem: did one do enough?

*

prayer sets every body upon the tip of one's tongue
curse, bless, kiss, swallow.

Thank you. I didn't have
much time.  Didn't have much
thank you, before I go.