Acutely aware of a presence while sleeping
of something substantive, chunk peanut butter, pulp OJ, preserved not jellied
with its mouth agape
breathing fiction under shower stream
Asking,
who will take the last bite? who will fake it till midnight?
choking pineapple under cranberry umbrella as
one door rattles another

Everyone waiting for the Pope Smoke.

Pacing in athletic clothes in the hopes of becoming
athletic while
fighting containment in lapis blue tights that just won’t
ease up
those damn Nivea rivulets
careening fresh into frozen York patties and sneezing
parti-colored glitter onto pixilated wings.

Speaking softly, “I can teach you
I just taught myself tonight”

Crane to see it through a thin slit,
If you’re lucky
you just
might.