H.M.T.H.Y.D.T.W

How many times have you died this week?
Suddenly I saw it, midway down the street,
seven shots of forget-me-nots bottled in his hands –
I cannot convince you to delegate disaster, or
divide us into two separate people, or
prevent whatever is about to occur when I watch you
snort electric Kool-Aid for the first time in seventeen years

“Give me the marshmallows stuffed in your cheeks…”

You said it seventeen times, until all your friends
watched you toss me pills with an open mouth
then watched me toss you coke with a bloody nose
sealed in a ziplock bag given by an evangelistic artist
spindling gin on his wrist around the corner of West 12th –
spitting images lodged in his brain when he reiterated
with neurotic mnemonic compulsion that he that he that he
recognized Damon but it was the person standing next you
who shared the same accent and squirrely features
and all you did was glare at him with eyes in your hairline
insisting that you could only see if you stood on the bench
where you made him promise he’d not sell the story.

Where did you go when your knees kept wobbling?
The farmers market? Neverland? 7-Eleven?
Your eyes glazed over while your bones took the form
of tambourines – a pocket of pennies, you kiss me,
a pocket of pennies, pennies, pennies, you said pennies
like it was church on a Sunday, pennies, like wheels,
pennies, like barter, that time you saw an eagle barge
its way through your eyes and feed them to its young
and you only knew because you could smell the iron
in your blood fizzle down your nose and you told me
that you’d never forget the sound of the crunch from
inside their beaks

How many times have you died this week?

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