Tonight
The air is ******* its cheeks
& surgical--
Whilst I walk through the tufts of mottled grass
Fetishizing stage mothers falling on kitchen knives
& school girls wearing **** whistles around their necks like charms
& at 11:26 it comes on to me
In the choking on discussions of
Muted liberties—
Civil duties—
Toothless ethics—
& the sleight given upper hands
& now they glass me real good
Looking to me for my rebuttal
But it is now taut around my throat
Taking hold like a drunken uncle
For all the times I stuck my neck out on the line
& it happens like this most every time
In moments so gentle, so tranquil
The kind that only the sting of a horsefly
Or the discovery of a tumor could tamper with
& I am left filled with a love so grandiose
So indescribable—
That my heart swells & threatens to burst
& if they could hear me mutter just that
Then maybe this wouldn't be such a bad way to go at all