Thin and sober, like
evening air,

Le Freak brings its
benign curiosity

To her lips, some
Belgian monk

At a waffle press;
a meteor explodes

In the sky. A sent-
ient gas hovers

Cautiously, then ex-
plores the dim

Recess of my lungs.
Or it glows green,

Then vanishes. It’s
an aggressive brew.

And God bless Amer-
ica for its hop.

That’s something I
haven’t heard in a

While. It latches on
and holds its breath

Like it holds its
head. White and

Swollen, like you’d
expect.

It trippels on its
laces, and then I

Said: “My twos are
unshied” and I

Meant it. I grabbed
the bottle instead

Of the glass. Looks
like it only takes

Me two to get un-
shied these days.