Mission Statement

Just the way you peel the
sunset off the horizon like a decal
& your breath so indiscriminate
having forgetton love’s middle name

to lip-synch your way through
the terror of oblique poverty
days & nights of it swaying in the
light & variable winds

when you stagger out of the soul kitchen
in your kelp grove ensemble
remembering something whispered
on the stairs

All I know is that every other word was
“motherfucker” & seemed to me like
captions to photographs taken with a
disposable camera

dissolving in the smoke of a deciduous cigarette
beneath the camouflage palms
offered now for your astute repudiation