Across the room
I tremble
breath in her mouth
still unmoved
I stumble
her eyes x-ray mine.
Zigzag
I think
she as the crow flies
impenetrably black
she mobs
leaving a handful
of sweat, ash and me.
Stand and bow
I do
upon her every whisper
she laughs I come
I come she laughs.
Her voice uprising drums
I dance around the wagons
she takes my scalp
wears it when in sequins
and tells the girls
she’s had better pelts.
Should I coolly cascade up the stairs
and meet him.
Should I throw down our faces
and our wits
or should I not.
Should I buy the beer
and frost a heart
as one would a glass.
Should I sift the sawdust
for the diamonds that lay there.
Should my elbow be more
mahogany than bone.
Should she behind the bar
know my eyes and my limit
or should I pass
to the rest room
and flush the handled john
even though it wasn’t used.
Should I eat
with the napkin folded in my lap
or should I palm the spoon.
Should I slip the peas into a sleeve.
I am afraid to smile
as I might be a crocodile
and a laugh
a howl at the moon.
Will I shake his hand.
I think that I could not.
How could I be so bronze
when all my blood is hot wax
and my ankles so well turned.
How might I enjoin a man
that spins a melody
I once hummed.
How should I tie my shoes
and be clean as a new ass.
Oh should I or
should I not.
How could I meet him
and not
hold her hand to long.
– CZVasser
#38 pdf
I found a red shoe lover
thursday after drinks
that was god good
until saturday
but I have flowers to remember.
Sundays are balloons
with string teases
where do they go
when you let go.
I’ve never held so much
on long lost love day
tricks, treats and forget‑me‑nots.
