The Reflex

The politics

of doxxing. The atomic

option for the lucky clover.  The

lonely bruise you try not to lose.  The rag as it covers

your brittling bones.  The right to loan

whatever’s left

to you, dear reader.  The fleeting firsts for the forking

of the tongues.  The love of the clubs

when there’s dubbed

manifestos.  Isn’t that Bizzaro

on the masthead?  Every little thing

you do is law magic.  Question mark

over by the empty park.  

Rubber mallets for your knees

please don’t hide cards

in my shoes i need them to burn full

velvet, silk, &

satin.  It burns a monosyllabic

path through my vocabulary

quiz written as a multiple-choice choose-

your-own downfall windfall against

opportunity.  Neither brawn

nor brain, I’ve got a partner

in nobody & nobody’s ever

thought to wonder

why I wander

when I meant

to make amends.