Souvenir:
running me off sightless on
two sided tape.
My side kick tell me to say bless you. He’s a
Keychain siding with anything but biting my own skin as a
First-time wrangler.
Jumbotron shows a model. Signaling theory makes citizens chant.
Molding dolls.
Commanding horses.
Get a side kick, the exit sign said.
So I did.
Cowboy holding his perverted chin.
We’ll eat triple decker tomato sandwiches and he tells me
Lassoes are meant for enjoyment, not mastering.
When the side kick leaves to the arena,
After making me run to snare me with his rope,
I think of a martyr holding headphones.
The ear cups flip like rubix cubes. The cushions like hotel waffles.
First side on my sternum. Other side stretching for my upper back.
I am asked to
Inhale. Exhale.
Keep it going.
Strong lungs.
Words I want to buy. I’ll stick them on me sideways.
My nose won’t melt to carpet, my nostrils still mumble,
There is no way to reach you.