And imagine my heel a hook

around your ear – my other

against your chest, the rest

of my leg singing. Stay there,

crush ripping hair from the bud,

the best part thrash: from the shove.

or the bouncy ball – this is the sliver,

you are the nail. Muck mud.

There is no hammer here.

Where’s the power?

Lemonade at the hype

and dish it, hit. Skate:

your computer buzzes

and I vibrate

like a cell phone. I vibrate like a cell phone.

Hell, hell, hell, hello – ring it, lance –

here we are, again, voiceless

with your (whatever) and my deaf ears

“rock-induced,” he wrote. Will you too tuck

me into a white womb while I wait?

You’ll study the waves. But it’s jitter.

If you’d like to make a call, please hang up.

If you’d like to make a willow branch

into the cup.

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