there is something
deferent about watching
a cockroach eat semen (from a blanket, bed-cover,
or carpet)
it is something at the cusp of transcendent
if it is your own
watching jaws
work
thinking of glue and nuclear fallout
the choir, the
audience—all hoping this is not your room
wishing the setting, switching the setting, when unmentioned,
to some motel
how can you not
think of her or him
that other organism that your semen sometimes fills
