Survival Rate
When at customs I don’t declare
what I brought into my country
from that other minor country
when in legacy mode
my teeth have grown too yellow
the surprise-hug of a carnivorous flower
I exploit the marasmic like photons
seen from a city under a full moon
Congo red
and get away with our
decolonized gut flora miasmatic
melismatic tempura time
A joke for a body moored to dislocation
when all the mouth can do is say
That’s-pretty-funny
Your eyes grabbed mine by the elbows
our fourth and sixth cranial nerves intact
after you’d pitched your face
in my shoulder for me to wander
your cheek and chin
and rose cemetery
This is variance in clinical features
of bombs strapped to the waist
We all have them
Red blood cells ants
released to circulate the body
until they die
1st Love
When God began you she
said to me one spring afternoon
God began
with your hands a woman’s hands
then reached your wrists
& made the rest of you man