she is the flat inspection failure notice
she’s in the red paper that you threw away again
she is the dripping air conditioner
she is the honeycomb
the salt of the sea
the smell of it in the heartland

she is the car that won’t start
and the ******* idiot keeps trying to start it
and it stinks and smells like monoxide
she’s the other idiot driving his bike
up the wrong side of the road

she is the overgrown rat hit by the subway
filthy and pitiful

she calls to you when you sleep
she stares at you in your dreams
in the life in that weird little universe
she knows you
she is your friend

you wake up and you hear
the world working its jaws
right by your ear
it’s her
it’s her, in the sky before the ****** storm
wet like a paper bag filled with water
oozing down walls
and up them, too
like kudzu
crowding out the other plants
even the bamboo
it’s her on the news
it’s her in all the mindless crap
you ignore and can’t live without

without the air conditioner
the warmth seeps into your
flat like blood
the cold air bleeds out and you
feel again
you taste the bitter sweat
you reach over
and turn it back on again
you go to sleep with it on
like sleeping next to an ice cube
ozti the ice man