WITH LOVE AND DREAD AND RAGE AND LOVE,

Or is it anticipation

cut perversely

Something must happen

Dear ones, say you

feel it too

Parts of my body are blank

It's not a wish but it's also

not Cassandra

I think about the word era

I'm working on ferocity

and frankness:

This poem fails

Here an affect there

an affect

Let's reclaim sad

Is it foreboding if

it's factual

Okay a little wish

I think about the words

period of my life

It's an endurance act

Her father dies and I keep

wading

He has to see the cardiologist

I want to commit to the

poem but I can't

I get cold and cultivate selfishness

She says each generation is called

a word in the poem

I write patience in my notebook

I wait for my period and drink

a Corona

I try to make it a speech act

Have I given myself permission

to inhabit my body

I think about the alien inside

I think about the phrase

unwanted advances

Parts of our bodies are blank

I put my fingers on

your coronaries

Come at me