“how am i gonna live my life
if i’m positive?”
-michael franti
10 am check-up spirits drowned
in five minute result. now, my veins are clotted
and nostrils freshly snotted
by the thought of joining that cult.
his chin: a mantle of pus
abandoned in a camp
where aid workers discuss.
i could tell my girl, disrupt her whole world
and honesty
is more precious than
a vintage flag unfurled.
his eyes: cueballs of crust
jettisoned in a camp
where aid workers discuss.
i told my girl, and her eyes burned betrayal
voice falling flat
asking me why
had i stopped wearing a hat?
his scalp: a plain of weeds
abandoned in a camp
where aid worker deeds
met fundraising needs.
