for cr avery
cue the frenzied combo of molar and spit, his tongue
touches every chroma on its way to blue. he deftly
conjures washboards and rubber, even suburban
girls lie still for the twinging, the humid reckoning.
i want to coax last night’s corona from his chin, rub
my index finger along the surface of his laugh, pull
it open to check the throat’s slick road, something
illegal’s going on down there, the sweet keening
of ancient instruments, wonder boy opens beauteous
and words become both otherwise and everything.