I HAD GIVEN UP HOPE OF FINDING SOMEONE WHO LOVED THE WORLD AND HATED THE WORLD AS MUCH AS I DO
My love, before you, this dehydrated piss of mine
was such a lonely shade-grown coffee.
My semen’s judgment clouded
with an eerie, evangelical determination.
My eyes were broken touch-screens;
I tasted my own blood in every daiquiri.
But now, know matter where I am, I can hear
the creaking of the pier beneath your spectacular breasts,
I can feel the sway of your waves
cupping my sack of indestructible puppies.
Collisions like ours are a shock to every system.
Politicians never counted on us.
Wall Street never counted on us.
The cadaverous yuppies and their screaming,
vegan babies never counted on us.
Investment bankers swear they keep seeing
our faces in their zeroes and ones
like belligerent, binary Marys.
They feel our fingers in the throats
of their housing bubbles, our teeth foreclosing
on the napes of their tender, un-insured necks.
To put it more delicately: I want you to fuck
the fiscal responsibility out of me.
I want you to fuck me until universal healthcare.
We are too big to fail, so put down the briefcase,
and come skin the rabbit with me.
We make such a flaring of magnificently epic nostrils,
such a pure, pornographic latte.
If you keep coming home, I’ll swear I'll keep pouring
this miraculous rye that keeps the city sun
from surging, that keeps us underworn
and hammocked on the rooftops of February.
Darling, you cave me like a raindrop in ash.
Touch the tip of your electronic cigarette to me
so I can ignite.