TERMINAL FIGURE by Barbara Beck

After Whit(h)er by Jen Dick, Stainless Sunset and Youthful Trust by Michelle Noteboom

your hat among graylings.
your three-dollar throat with all the live elements rolled into one.
your culinary bruises.
your cold little beluga cradled in a water loop. mud flavors unduly woken ie. voluted.
your rock that contains two generations.
your ruby pivot middle name. the heavy task of tamping constantly to the left.
your half dream kept uncombed in a ravine, for usufruit.
your white-night capitulation to the neon marquise. no one's touching anymore anyway.
your Thursdays, not sequels but parodies called "picnic by proxy".
your dilemma of the red-tiled swimming pool.
your mnemonics flat out over early morning misgivings. each day's headdress.
your igneous underlife ripped forth and forward. now it's every sunset motel every glass lover seeing out of whose eyes you vacillate.
your amphibian on-ramps once engineered for getaways no diversionary traction. haul yourself out to the end of the prospect.
your dorsal view of a lime kiln surrounded by equally statuesque corollaries. the other windows are cagey arrangements full of wind.
the bromides you swallow as cloudspotters do a promise of balconies with evident vocational trysts.
your amorous equivalent of a garden conversation. can't tell who's ticklish and who's bilious greenth.
your votive finger bowl coming after a series of ill-fated litmus tests. stop or go hither poking up quarrels speaking in near-body accents.
your deceptions and killer equations to the deeper tissues. the refinements to come.