<p>Look, He says, Stick your hand in your head<br />
twist the oyster-grey tubes. Feel their pulse. Still nothing?<br />
We’ve been through this Twice tonight.</p>
It’s out west at 3AM I’m
a bathtub against a concrete wall
flushed of oil and rainbow-slick
a crumbling ornament too foul to be inside
and He, increasingly resembling my father, says
Take the valley Ride the river Enter the crowd Find your friends.
His big eyes pulsing light, feeling less of himself
But I’m out of valleys there is no water
the crowd’s a flesh
whirl strangers like friends and friends
like strangers so
I’m stuck throwing dead fish words
in the corner as a toddler
look lost mine please
Look, He says, Stick your hand in your head
twist the oyster-grey tubes. Feel their pulse. Still nothing?
We’ve been through this Twice tonight.
No matter how hard
I twist I can’t grasp it
He falls out my head
saying You’ll be fine. This is all temporary.
So I drank warm beer and waited for the sun to rise