LIKE CLOCKWORK

This in drudgery, like a cold lightning-bolted

to your immune system. When playing

tennis with your desires, whose knees

do you take a crowbar to? Anapest, Budapest,

vintage crabgrass makes bad lemonade.

Looking back, there are clearly three muddy

prints: one-legged invisible dog,

do you smell something burning?


Let’s waltz through this mess of a mess

together and if someone says, Excuse me,

Ms. Harding, your triple Axel is no good here,

you’ll be speechless. But it’s okay,

the vagaries you’ve been toting

around in your high school gym bag

have been saying it for years.