lump
it’s not just a
woman, it’s something big and warm
blocking my exit from
a theatre aisle.
since she’s shared
what happened to her, I often
dismiss her body,
soft and snug against me
against the doorway.
whatever i owe this moment
comes out as
laughter. do i owe her
indifference, no argument
on the caging against
the stapled velvet. staving off
both her hands, all
the way until the lights are up,
nothing
happens, it’s not so
forward. is it. we know there are
among us
thieves, missing
parts of our lost selves, ice
shattered mouths
gone tough around the
jaw, just as angled and belligerent
as stallions, wild
pony eyes and jerked up shoulder
blades, nothing
standing in the way now, villains
put away,
locked down, left to
their binges, picking through
political
jingles against
restraint, they’re all six feet
deep, or forgotten anyway.
i don’t like her body
here. i move only to be pinned
again, sometimes she
calls herself a man.
but that’s not really it is it,
she’s not
a woman now, or a
man, but a lump of something, at
best that
can’t get in, and so
the lights are just long, the moment
old
and the laughing
brittle. when someone else
chides her for
molesting, i’m grateful. i’ve tried
using that word with
her myself.
to the man on the bus
i don’t like your
mouth. i don’t like the crusty
edge, or how it looks like it
smells.
i don’t like that it
won’t stay still.
there's something
goddamn about that mouth.
you don't even
deserve it.
you who plays with
popsicle sticks.
who rides the bus
with a bloody crack in your lip.
you even have a
cellphone ring that's ridiculous.
every time i think
it’s dry, you start it all over
again.
and i hate those caps
you wear. i don't like the way you
sit.
your fanny pack.
your dirty brown bag. i don't like
the mustard stain you leave whenever
you switch seats.
i'm not saying your
mouth isn't full of things i could
like.
it is full of things
i do like,
like lampposts and
cracked teeth
and the word
fucker
once, some little
girl put a fatty nipple on that lip.
is that what made it
crack? you were young then.
i hate you anyway.
i could just say
you've opened your
mouth for the last time.
but i've already
opened my mouth.
i already lied about
who i am.
