These days couldn’t be counted. Lechery,
satiety and lechery
and the age-old itch for inebriation—we played
asphyxiation on the hard school floor.
Hold it in, hold it in;
tonight you’ll be as livestock
with nothing in your dreams—mine was standing
at the back of a train, watching the truncated earth repeat.
It passes in retrospect, a looping spectrum from
green to gray—I caught myself staring
when the alarm tolled in as a cathedral tower.
Bored with the same lesson
but the learning doesn’t end—body of addiction, walking in,
I swim farther to feel.
– Oakland, CA