candy wrappers parsing pure concrete blood
twine around Megumi, a white and knotted
daydream in the Bronx, where I am
and she is not: a sweet I wish I hadn't
spent, and which I taste all day, pert

tart and empowered. I could waste my day away
from here; in her hot arms I'm dreaming
of Hunt's Point brownstones, rats that flicker
from alleys to plunder garbage; a mouth full of

http://www.lewislacook.org/xanaxpop/


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