POWAM
Verse is vein slip slip
is is is
the pulsating quickness of
completion, the stanza
soft gooey muscle,
the poem a body

plague ridden heartthrobs,

the poem is the demon
cackling in the other room;
the poem is the monster
masturbating under the bed,

vein is verse,
the blood an ellipses,
stuttering complex,
diaphanous,

regret, all but regrettable,

the poem can see deception before I do,
the poem knows,

the words hint at what prowls
beneath the surface of our
murky bed; seeing my expression
mirrored in your eyes

lovers rage
the poem is a rampage,

the poem is a suicide waiting
to transpire, the poem is one
leg off the ledge
listing

the poem
is Indian summer; bar
fight black eye
your lips spread wide and thick
while you suck the edge of a red
plastic cup waiting
hoping
to get drunk

slip slip slip
the poem is a moon
hovering over you

light ripples
a body stretched
wide across the page

I am in the words
you lurk in the lies.