sense memory no. 1 [revision, 082120121512]

suddenly the sweetness of some fruit 

i can't recall 

memory's maw models some flowery drupe, 

a mango

spread across a lisp thin wheat

the saccharine spear implacable 

i heave on repeat, breathe 

in hopes of dislodging the pneumonic 

of seeds, split and juice — an unmistaken

missing flame

[for Matthew Rohrer, 062120121546]

Interrobang — Page 11, Line 11, Part 1

So many lovers loved

built up into careful

bedside stacks — which to read

first, which to repeat

"According to what has ended up inside it," Kim said.

What and why, indeed?

When the cushions call who 

can resist? Clever, diabolical, 

it's a reaction, always to you, forgive me

"I reacted subjectively, assuming they wanted me to show off," Lenny said.

I resist, I resist, and I do not resist — forgive me

but leave me here, endless fingers fondling

his timing belt

again

"The wrong kind of difficulties and ambiguities," Charles said.

these lips — there are dreams to be drunk

as something shadows up my keep — like 

life keeps calling me back to sleep. that settles it;

and i check the size on her hardcover sleeve.



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uproariously disappointing

Breathless and Sweaty Here on the Sidelines

Adam, is this a printing error?

Had McSweeney's beard-wild intern 

left notes in the galley?

A literary rabbit?

A muzzle flash? 

A clue; smoky fingerprints — whose? — left marginal?

An entropy?

Oh, I see!
This affect-italicized ho-hum — pop, pop, pop 

Playing volleyball with her quote.