Only always do we
stay
young like virgins
Young, like website novelists
connecting me where the boys are pretty
And my eyes are diverted, leaving
me to count headaches like Johnnie Cochran
pristine and masculine in their persistence
rubbing alcohol for my Egyptian cotton candy kiosk
However I waltzed my sun-baked way from
flamenco dancer to sleepy street
vendor, pushing my wares onto the barely-theres, obscuring
cross-bearing statues that loom like gargoyles, hugging my
soul and squeezing
my target market
Archery
is not picked up
suddenly I am esophagus-deep
in sand, warning of wastelands to
Young artistic couples holding hands, standing
like forgotten name brands on the dinosaur
tips of pinwheels
Still grace feels much as
it has, and when your firefighter moans in hospital dreams, repeating
the numbers always in Fahrenheit,
how your heart simmers, though we both know you are pondering
celery and peanut butter instead
Bedside table manners, glass of water, lamp, Bible, cookie crumbs, dish towel, Copenhagen
Wither me worldly, like your precious public craves
And stay on the same page, eight minutes
Incremental changes
Detune and spot trains, from ice
baths big as oceans, foaming
Beaches being born in time-
lapse distractions with acoustic accompaniments, same
those same beaches fed you
Mediterranean white lies that blackened in the sun, crispy,
And skin cancer, with a sparkling incision, extracts
ninety-one percent of the headaches
I am a motivational speaker with eyes and sidewalk tessellations
Sure
Eleven-step method
Sure
Spaghetti choking hazards, harmonica substitutes
Sure, youth
Sure
I am young.
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