Wednesday, April 20, 2011


trying on the hands
and what it feels
like to laugh until everything
comes up loose:
teeth, gas, and water
from the eyes
side-spittingly lid-heavy
a cone of volume
waving out from somewhere
beneath the belt you try
to hold steady
but tame is not the weigh-station
not the freight-laden
rig of fits born to highway
through you.