S c o u t F a l l e r —
loverboy paradigm/catullus remix
let me do what kissing
implies suck syrup off your
eyes, let your f
ace fall into pools
scooped up in the mirrors
of mine meet me
mouthy melt
into spring tendrils of light
reach me frenzied
you freak me
out!
i throw you away to form a
distinction.
texture confounding
the limits
of space, the energy
held in the snap of
release. i pushed
down, the crowd
surged i can’t be asked
to carry the coin
of your face— spit
like a penny
dipped in orange
ade angels look
on and forget
their own names,
reminding me aphrodite
kept a
mirror and a shell
my heart
beats to break
it up somehow
i can’t even
look at you now THIS POEM IS PERFECT
when i sit on the toilet i piss
is a line that will fix poetry
about american cities
arrived at wildly
doing numbers all over history
it fails to drain patriotism
from its language, a tether
missing between cities
and this pouring
rain we throw ourselves a self-
evident wrench we
hate the state, love walking in
blue suede memphis shoes, we’re
full of piss, this city has
no public bathrooms, a country
music sidebar behind a
scrim of diner menus
—that’s perfect. this poem takes
edits to deletion, becoming
a cradle of potential when i’m
hydrated it sprays
lemonade, a beverage
for people who hate
lemons but love their nature, like my
hair in strawflowers after bleach
or men when they date
a thing, perfect and drinkable
our metropole days shooting
themselves open after a rain .