never once-over a page like some
glimmering on the other side read
ing it like a bomb. which is to say
boom you say that? yes next page a
goldmine full of vipers’ vests and
a spooked out clambake. this bake
disorganized, disengorged, and what’s
more, I wait it out to be hungry to be.
poetry—tab—schoolwork and look,
a few more leaves blown while the
world collapses like clockwork,
only this time with feeling. how
many times did you say that feeling
breath-rent—half gone to keynotes;
half to phone messages? block time
for quoting, reread this a third time
and feel sad, feel ugly. nothing
doing. dance like a goldfish
out of goldwater. finish big
like a goldbomb at a goldbake.
