the Belt

The whole bequeathment:
what AIDS one may've had,

what the other man knows,
the whole paternalism.

You will do something nice
and I will pay you for it.

I am literally crying on your
shoulder.


Putting adhesive letters
on a CD jewel case,

setting the jewel case on
fire, or eating each shardy

piece. Imagining the
ways of getting rid of it.


will be like being ridden
by it, with a saddle

and too tight belt.

the Integrated Circuit

Long lust
cut off.

Time is some
unwilling

haberdasher.


Jacket snaps
slackless

until chest
is made

of skin and
silk lining.

Encouraging
chest hairs

coming from
the lime green

tight dobby cloth—
stop it!


Skin is not
silken, even

on the relatively
hairless front.

Chest is not fabric;
less is not

magnanimous,
naught is not

endless if
noise informatics.


What once was
entropic now isn't.

Just less
insulative space.