and my heart has been cleansed of love
like something pasteurized pickled and held
in a plastic bag or glove
a white condition, wrapped
ready you think for you, but it must be spiritual
if you are to eat it
if you are to eat anything
oh, die before you bite
anything without considering
the pleasure of life.
I don't trust large fruit
or Moments of Love
my lip gets caught
on the edge of a cup
when dawn first comes
when the edge of light
comes
Rain is starting again.
My legs are askew.
My body an errand I run.
Left rain, came to rain,
said goodbye in a patch.
Return, fat pellets, weather’s
shared but the air
is more densely populated here and city
people are afraid
of rain.
Man doesn’t look me in the eye.
I want to slap him and shout.
I’m having a historic feeling I hate.