sexy

guessing what comes out? melancholy & sanguine.
sometimes sacred. mercurial baby
  bet on that rocket
  rock me asleep, stone me
    to death. print me with letters
      talk me out of it, talk me into it
close me up
  close up beside me
     close into me
      close, into me
maybe it's the weather
maybe I make the worst weather
  tengo mal tiempo
I wish I had allof the world's balloons to ride
  back to last August or July or someplace
    to some preplace
      when I was just a kid in the sun
         with a different kind of weather
I'm sorry I've been a wrath
  I hope I am honest
  I hope I am a trustful
bc I can sleep through the nights, now
  I do things before bed
  I draw those flowers
  I let Kafka in my ears
& my melancholy blood
  it is a pretty lot still, me
    I mean, I could be a graduate with this mind of mine
  I could muster the strength of many men up in here
  I could rally
    my virility
       I could smoothe her hair
          caress her down
  make less lonely how-it-is
I wonder if I'll get fired for taking all of these breaks
  but I'm trying to get true broke, see
    bc I've heard that sometimes you need to break it
  to snap back into place
       

virtue

I moved inside and logged

  that fire

write in the light of it

with wet woolens dangling

there isn't a dictionary

  no one thinks to bring one

     it rains on the internet

   but I still find out that nemesis is the word of the day

                     

              but we have a different word of today

  

manliness,

      excellence, 

           godliness,

                potency

Virility & Virtue

    an advertisement urges me to click on a link: why men fall in love

  and its subheading: remind him why he loves you

  I am not a virtue

but a virtuous woman might

  just

remind a man

    why he loves her               

          

  like I am virtually her

  like I am virtually here

         I am essentially, practically there

  like I am essential, practical.

         a word on mouths for 600 years

  being as a fact but not as a truth

the fire is virtually dying

the fire is dying with virtue

nothing in the translation 

  of an old dead tongue

       can truth it real

& our descriptive grammar

    is proven absolute again

(so I know: another log for the fire, another wine for opening, feed them)

  

    I ate potato pancakes from the pancake & christmas house

  they were virtually crawling with onions

    why isn't that so true enough

      that I commit to it always?

and so drink & glorify in the 

older-than-that 

  words

the I-came-before-you words  

from a landscape slammed

  before latin was the only real shit

  Let yourself in then, your valor

        your worth  

  let this ancient adjective upstand

  let it be goodness

  let it rein america in

  let us men be strong

  let us be members

  let righteous members abound

But where's your tuff?

  where's your I'll-show-you-molly

  where's those gods-in-your-veins

  where's your justice?

  where's that wishful name

  placed pressureful on your slumped shoulders?

can't live tuff
  hide-in-a-name jelly skeleton

a nemesis has 

  Just indignation

      Righteous anger

         & thrashes & divines wrath up allover everything

  the virtuous

& the goddess of vengeance? at a Party sometime

   taking some beerbongs

     bodyshots

  Virility's glistening biceps in his threadbare tank

Nemesis' dampened tramp stamp

  and sunkissed bejeweled stomach

    glistening in the fluorescent basement lights

the Good & Strong & Excellent & Essential

   versus

the Defender of Justice

  who can shotgun the most beers

  who can kill that keg

  who can take down the party.

Who is splayed on the patio

   at the outcome of a chicken fight

 which one asks for more

   & which begs to be left off