I sucked the marrow from the bomb it tasted so right like GMO corn it made me weep how full it was
I knew better than to fall in love with any piece of her rapt body I mean mine
I was always giving it away little skirt little girl foam curlers I slept on a panel of lights
I shouldn’t take up so much space I should be back in the basket in the cask cowering but I
am light
I am what touches I lick and lick at the shell at the walls of the shelter like flames my arms fly out and lick
My wrong tongue find the transformer find the girl inside silk fatigues ermine And then—
red poplin curtains a lit eye & sirens
"Grasping" artwork by Paula Barkmeier; poem from "Surge," now available for purchase from Tinderbox Editions