That's the way the world is
Just tell me that you want me
the kettle's in the oven

I'm not making this up
a curt briefing cut short

the morning they turned 14,
swirled the frosting over them
went to the dojo for Matt's run-through
came back to a trail of crumbs
burrowed with his muzzle

what to do now, going
the flavor-of-the-week
historical

nothing to show for it
dusty well-worn woodcuts
barns burned

motoring what is not
resenting the present
a self-hating abject majority
suffers a minor tasering

too close to close
gets worse the further down you go
augmentation
everybody
the bower and the scraper
ever a scrapper
marveling at the contented dog
dreaming birthday cake

Don't say that you love me
parakeet lays four subprime eggs
disguised as a microwave

chiefs are crawling to Kurtz
bled out, dispossessed

I baked two cakes,
& left them on the counter
forms before the belt test
Jack had dug a five-inch trench
through the middle

paperless, but urgent
disaster damage control
materialism

cluttered wunderkammers
some black cloaks in the closet
class: free agents with no choice

panic along with pushback
privatization
objecting to the object
doped daily

up against it: a low-cut mess
a stacked rack, a chest best
reduction
unhappy
never a tailgater
free falling
sleeping in a sun puddle
smiling, a Platonic drool