[untitled; or, our girl as futurist engineer] & [interlude involving improper physics]
[untitled; or, our girl as futurist engineer]
this morning i spit
salt & turmeric
into my small sink
staining the whole damn
bathroom orange god it’s
hell to undo my
mistakes & so many
it was a sort of
transference i jot
in some dumb diary
what i would like love
is to gargle u
forever cleansing
some palette feeling
the warm trickle down
my esophagus
if i could keep u
here i might know peace
i guess what i could
say without all these
prevaricating
ridiculousness-
es is that i need
u inside me so
bad i could croak i
want a pregnancy
scare baby & i don’t
even have a womb
but i’m building one
[interlude involving improper physics]
i’m out of work five weeks
now i speak only to my mirror-
darling & shall i tongue her
parted mouth tender revolutions
clucking in their own awful universe
so lawless
u could pin a tail to it
who knew such dark address
could be so slapstick
she is silent she is
clouded over in the clouding history
of 79 thousand selfies & the gaze
of half that in lovers o to whom
should i bow we extrude the penitence
of woman loving bobble-headed babes
i refract
before her i am nothing
if not a perpetual offering
lord
i ask her to guess the numbered marbles
tumbling in the mute sieve of my body
beginning w my oil slick of an opening
(u must choose which one
i told u she can’t answer)
there is no gravity she floats
dumb cartoon air balloon sister
i twist my left breast hard
as my mechanical wrists
can manage & pop it off
plug it in to the single socket
of my bathroom i shine
it toward the mirror for
there is no sun
for her planet it hobbles
through space in search of
a new star to evacuate her
