Bearings

WITH LOVE AND DREAD AND RAGE AND LOVE,



Or is it anticipation

cut perversely



Something must happen



Dear ones, say you

feel it too



Parts of my body are blank



It's not a wish but it's also

not Cassandra



I think about the word era



I'm working on ferocity

and frankness:



This poem fails



Here an affect there

an affect



Let's reclaim sad



Is it foreboding if

it's factual



Okay a little wish



I think about the words

period of my life



It's an endurance act



Her father dies and I keep

wading



He has to see the cardiologist



I want to commit to the

poem but I can't



I get cold and cultivate selfishness



She says each generation is called

a word in the poem



I write patience in my notebook



I wait for my period and drink

a Corona



I try to make it a speech act



Have I given myself permission

to inhabit my body



I think about the alien inside



I think about the phrase

unwanted advances



Parts of our bodies are blank



I put my fingers on

your coronaries



Come at me