“I wouldn’t mind being diminished one caress at a time” —Stephen Dunn
we patter excitedly on abt gus van sant
jibber-jabber abt how good maggie looks in that bodysuit
shining brilliantly then doused in green flames
w/ u i know feast & famine, probably in equal parts
repulse bay & passports up-to-date
we’re impatient abt something
wanting to push the hair outta ur eyes, exchanging looks deep as tortilla
fast forward to the part where we sleep together
whenever ur in a hurry to leave, throwing up a peace sign
i tell myself ur off to masturbate
despite all evidence to the contrary
say “n” & mean nicholas, ur bum knee
carry ur skeleton but don’t catch ur name
—guide me —i’ll bring him home in a box!