Does it feel good, to lay your head
like that underneath the wrong.
Yes, we are actually afraid of thaw.
Is it the gnaw of shore then, a round
rubber mouth of a tire ajar.
It’s the tired wails of heat in the sand,
the sound of loose change in the heat.
Does weak mean acid rot in the tooth.
The week is a squeak, alert, tense in the
sock covering mouths of existence.