I reached back to the twitching in my
side—my right side—inside my back near my kidneys
we’d all gotten high and written poems
before we forgot that we were dying
you reached back to rub the bottom
of my back—your left side—inside my back
the twitching kidneys kept me up a few nights
plus dreams most of which I don’t remember
except genitalia on conveyor belts
much like the toy factory I worked during college one summer break
the summer before the private dances on the green carpet where
we tangled after reading our poems
not realizing—rather forgetting
how I was given Burger King to bring me down
to rid my paranoia
beneath the window where
the words got lost through the screen
a warm night with lots of bugs
we rolled on the blue carpet
and under the kitchen table with the pasta
I couldn’t get rid of my smile
I ate the hamburger into a poem
and spent hours in the bathroom with the tiles
thinking about sunflowers and belly-dancers
