Aimee Herman – Poem

go to Alaska

weep layers of bloody hips

we are plugged
in even when we
are not & why
can’t sewage be
romantic, since
reflections can be
found within its
oil slick and the
smell is no different
than breath in the
morning or
death

the whole world is a wasteland so grab a corner and fold this earth into something neater

sky is freckled, strangers
share whiskey & therapy bills
banjoes in background   lunges
against loft walls    thrusts of
confession

the truth is:          love can only be mad if strangled daily

this _________ likes to
top from the bottom
this _________ cross-dresses
only when lighting is right
this _________ is a tour guide
through graffiti swamps

grab a needle   press into forearm that has been warned   get high on evening   get high on largest state in the U.S.     have threesome with Arctic & North Pacific & Bering Sea

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