Mean Tease

This formless dress.

As mutton shuddering

drivers, coupled with

abuses of the tongue.

You again,

I find myself having to

watch out for all-of-a-

sudden evil. As today’s

highs are thanks

to yesterdays workouts,

so too the lows creep

steadily, irretrievable

losses. Already.

Everything takes muscle.

Until you learn what to

do with big open spaces.

Such that even one

second is a clumsily

large unit of measure.

Awash, the spread

of the evening.

I'm choked with the push

to make something moving.

This world doesn't need

new things. It's scum, lad

—a sham—that slum lords

can find funds and still

some can't afford love.

But you mistake me

for someone with a big idea.

Everyone wants to be cool

and ruthless. As salt

on a bridge. A brute

but impunible.

Unruly but true.