it’s been too long since i’ve rubbed rosin on my bow

sometimes i forget how much

i like the way steel

carves canals

into my fingertips.

flushed cheeks like climbing ivy

soft and warm

at mid-afternoon.

tomorrow, gums will bleed

and my tongue will ache

of neon lights—

fat from the sting of bourbon.

cardboard box

attached to a delivery bird,

filed receipts under

a tired pseudonym.

newly polished hardwood

under garden toes,

streaking exuberance.

sweat scrubbed into my back,

amber sap making five fingers

into one single paddle.

grilling pineapples so hawaii

can sit comfortably

in my mouth and

fingers crossed for mulberries

to paint the grass

in a rainstorm.

today my teeth are wired

like an industrial rollercoaster

and i think it will serve

as excellent entertainment

until tomorrow.

(19July2020 4:17PM)

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