The silences are copulating again. Look,
a woman so hungry her insides eat her other insides.
What are you crying about now? See, a black hole
of a mouth: eat, eat, eat. The cupcakes
are porno pink and they make you feel sexy!
It’s the everyday accretion
of desire—the American
glory hole. A boss-man yelping and yelping
in a corner. Who are the office harpies?
(So many mouth-breathers!) Beelzebub flaps
his frozen wings and it’s getting chilly in here.
What has the television taught the girls to say?
With their lips all plumped with hot goo.
Pixel this. Pixel that. Pixel your ugly face!
Your silence is a sealed jar of water,
little pariah. Outside, men and women
carry pictures of dead fetuses.
The children hold them, too.
Every day, you say, I am a person, I am a person.
It’s winter and your feet are wet again.
You say hello to the friendly rats.
Why do you flounder so easily in holes?
Do you suffer from cholera of the brain?
Check yes or no. The day goes on picking
the meat from its teeth.