Lucía M. Polis The Poetry of

time
finds me on the bus
thinking of the sudden dryness
in the mouth
as my mouth fills with
saliva and memories

total recall
sucking on your big toewhile
fucking you beautifully
a miracle accomplished
by the properties
of divine acrostics

i slide
my hand down the metal pole
feeling your wetness
in my mouth
it   and all the other cavities
rejoice in the
memory of your flesh

as if it were a steak
as if you were a pomegranate
(the bus driver announces
are we having fun yet
and i shake back and forth
to the cradle of the broken bed

broken cables
genderbending switches
and the self fulfilling prophesy
of the sky
what will keep me
in the world
a sign asks

i will give you all medals
spread thin on burnt toast
like the time i spread you
again and again
and you sighed
yielding into the eyeroll

up in the clouds somewhere
everything connects suddenly
some figure of clarity
some figure of pelagic plagiat
mutually appreciating the
mutual appreciation of

why not shoot in reverse order
why not slip fwitches
waiting for the arrangement to come
(even though it will never come
waiting for some other time
in two pee em dissolution

the eternal latka and matka
convoy ethereal
bodega
sodomy charges
and the nineteen eighty seven
ferrari four twelve

do not repeat after me
do not point out discontinuity
accept typos as an inevtable
part of life
do not take advice
to not remember

where i was
on the bus
licking the metal pole
with my hands
thinking of him
and him

and you
thinking of the flexibility of phrase
and the chord to follow
and the noise to follow
thinking of the supersemipermeable membrane
of your skin

and dreams of
white holy jissom
and beerbottles
tomatoes and gasoline
when suddenly acceleration is in order
and there's something off

as the seams on the seats
come apart
turning and turning
the underpants melt
off the hot little number
in stockings and skirt

and the texas chainsaw massacre belt
and the double chin
and the vacant stare
and the curious glance
and the briefcase
the suitcase

and exquisite corpse
everything stops
to let the feeling pass
makes me slow down
tighten my grip
lick my lips