So the universe bribes me with his and hers used cars
That leave bruises and scars before we cruise too far
And when we arrive home from afar
We are: filling kettles
holding phones
struggling with our adhesives
transfixed
in front of frozen
white caves
that whisper and moan
Like zombies waking up in
glacial chasms
With a surge of testosterone
I have never heard of the ocean
Or Jupiter
Where I sent my clones to suffocate and suffocate
But when I unwrap my skull, there they are, anyway
In many ways, my own, so I rename
Them: Dumb
and Bone
You on your saxophone, and me doing role call
In pool halls where grizzly bears gather
Swap hunting stories
Using glass eyes as cue balls
Within tombstone walls where I learned
How to stand tall on my knees
And wrapped my young lips around
Guilty pleas from innocent detainees
Rocking like yoga boats on satin seas
I swallowed every pride but my own
Not to say I condone honing
Ivory stones dressed as
Indiana Jones
Or that I never refuse in twos,
threes, or whole societies
Swami promises and free rent
In zoos with clean linen
But simply that I have found new uses for throats
Which your four-eyed professor never researched
About which your bellybutton piercing
Never wrote.
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