black licorice tea
sweet-sweet
cabbage salad
licorice tea
dessert wine saccharine pulls back cheeks
but steam
releases between eyes
rises
heat
sinks
tongue slope
lukewarming
placemat’s corner packet
a marron glace
al dente
tea astringent dry
ruminate
salivate
swig
sugary-spicy
last
new drip

lids knocks aside sleep, easy as windshield wipers on high
in a downpour. maybe I can look at these numbers with my chin
balanced on my elbow pedestal palm or on the end of my fist
on the desk, maybe rest my peepers from papers for a minute
with my chin resting on my left wrist and look up at them from –
80 minutes later I wake to a burning shoulder, wet cuff, a
pins and needles stitchwork guild meeting up my arm
my gumbo neck unevenly stretched but head snapped clear

pounding the pavement

in this human race
I am losing it; I feel like
a shit sac with arms. God
gave me a voice
but the devil
with that

waking
throat dry
as a vase’s

shepherths pie
lantil soup or
ceasars salad;
do I dare?