Bearings

WITH LOVE AND DREAD AND RAGE AND LOVE,

Or is it anticipation
cut perversely

Something must happen

Dear ones, say you
feel it too

Parts of my body are blank

It's not a wish but it's also
not Cassandra

I think about the word era

I'm working on ferocity
and frankness:

This poem fails

Here an affect there
an affect

Let's reclaim sad

Is it foreboding if
it's factual

Okay a little wish

I think about the words
period of my life

It's an endurance act

Her father dies and I keep
wading

He has to see the cardiologist

I want to commit to the
poem but I can't

I get cold and cultivate selfishness

She says each generation is called
a word in the poem

I write patience in my notebook

I wait for my period and drink
a Corona

I try to make it a speech act

Have I given myself permission
to inhabit my body

I think about the alien inside

I think about the phrase
unwanted advances

Parts of our bodies are blank

I put my fingers on
your coronaries

Come at me