weak days

Weak days after we sway on the subway
watching teenagers afraid to smile
dry chilis in maple syrup
was that ever you? every one I
read it in the ripples on your skin
each one counts to ten
we hate poems full of meaningless gestures
let's follow the squid tentacles to the party line
then lift up the petticoat insulators
a dirty arty joke     a fur teacup     a hollow bible
an instruction manual for video games
and testing the waters with your feelings
like reading the petals
smoke signals a fire on a sidewalk
are your friends zombies or babaganoush or
do they fuck
you can pour your own shots
they ring out like fire in the desert night
the french have a million ways to say "he said" "she said"
& the genitals to back it up
tired days lying on the bed waiting for something to happen
draw a picture of you
wearing a man's shirt
that is maybe yours