SOME MIDSUMMER WET DREAM

i’ve been split in two persons:

you and I, wriggling twin larvae

bleeding blue into polyester

sticky with midnight, dog-eared against 

radiators, sweat jewels the 

whites of your forearms and 

you smile (something so wild 

and unfamiliar i blame it on a mirage)

steal my name, my face 

tuck untamed fingers past limpid 

sternums and translucent ribs

you lovely ghoul, you lovely mimic

do you hear the train? it’d be impossible not to 

windows blinking by, wind-swept in 

your hair

the horde of skin the finer 

ladies dance in trickling along boxcars

we’ll catch lipstick-silver blondes

in the rain like fleshy angels 

in the atmosphere / bugs in resin and 

when asked how’d the two 

of you meet? by one in celadon

lighting and glittered kitten 

heels (she’s everything female and 

zany! i could just faint) i’ll say

he waved at me, nothing more

she makes me nounish, a something-or-other

i must be feverish, writing about feelings

i can’t describe using words i nary use—

and lo! how nutty it / everything is! 

lynching my words by mouth

call yourself lonely, a hyphen 

misused, everything blue and botoxed 

take her, kissing her neck in bedsheets 

   you label mine (bowed inward, 

sunbleached, knotted)

i know it’s not

right to stare but everything you do is 

good, so very wonderful and perfect 

in my dreams the telescope pleated

between my hands is loaded like a rifle

you look up at me with big 

wet eyes: soft, mammalian

and i know it should be me