Whose back is bent, whose bikini swirl
posts laterally into swarms of accidents
prone to rejection. I shaved
this and nothing happened
sure, you shaved it all and everything
limped away into the craw
the crawl.
Humpback swirls across the Atlantic
Harmattans a cow lick up and down
the side board, the reel in and gutted
sword fish carcass meant for me
a mailed diversion. Hard mats at home
kneel to prayer, kneel to beheading
bips in the odometers, the circles
swing arm dusting up clouds.
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