By: Daniel Grigg
Oysters & zinc.
The tongue lies in the mouth like a fish
unable to breathe.
Beef stroganoff, imperial gin martinis,
—rather, a bowlful of olives.
Bowl of nails
& muscular thighs
kicking up. Poor guy shouts.
A doctor’s reflex test,
but mostly this: I made an innocent man
Jesus & then killed him,
biting his tongue like an oyster
& slurping the iron finish.
She looked like a big little kid
when she opened the door in a long shirt
but no pants, & my mother went to cover
her small deflated bottom.
I wonder will they name her Pope.
We gals swim the Adriatic
in our shortest suits, praying
for suntan of the soul.
Surfacing from bedroom, NyQuil
& toxic, thought I heard my roommate
run lines through the door, he’s an actor, says
he’d kiss a man for a role,
& I dreamed of a guru
popping eyeballs out like bubblewrap.