glued by sweat
my shoulders pinned
stir my spit
tongue and spin
seize my neck
push into me
paralyzed
by hands and teeth
as with rain,
showers, cyclical
tears falling
ponds, visible
we are very base
dirt cakes our legs
as we tumble, wax pulls my hair
as you run your fingers through
(at last) i’m impaired
As usual, Kirby manipulates various interwar records to fit a cavalcade of emotional states: blissful (B1, E8), tragic (D2, D5), frantic (E1, E6), and just plain horrifying (F3, G1, H1, K1). gjoe52