Cutting pepperonis with the heavy bond scissors.
Where are the crayons? This napkin is magnificent.
Textured, like C. D. Wright.
Would she have a cup of coffee with me
if I drive from the rust belt to her house?
Will you have a cup of coffee with me
if I drove from the outer system to her house?
I won't stay long.
I won't bring the entire ship with me, that's foolish.
Can I park in your driveway?
C. D., can we talk about
your garage lighting?
The tail end of a pencil snags in my jean pocket
every time I put it through the wash.
I am scared I will find the other end
inside my foot, trying to talk, chew gum, and walk
a friend through my apartment
before their tongue cradles my privates.
Making a sandwich with no fingernails inside,
I know focus is hard like clouds or something- Winter.
The slink slip. Yes? No.
Not at all.
Gather meal together,
crush it into a ball.
How do you access moments, C. D.?
Have you ever
torn a toe nail off to the root to see if you could?
Teach me. Teach me!
So that I can brush my teeth and
never wash my hand again.
The cyclist next door
rips his motor over and over,
cussing his phone and the woman on the other end.
Volunteer fire department employee pays well, except
when it doesn't. She's got go. I promise. Hell,
I'll buy the plane ticket and walk
when I touch down.
Hugging my knees on the fire escape,
plans are laid for a wonderful garden, Wright.
I think you would be proud,
the cherry inside my mouth hisses.
Turn the music down. The neighbors.
What do the backsides of your ears smell like, C. D. Wright?
