I

Geometry you’re fired

juicy no-brainer

I want a jobless silhouette.

Want something to do?

Watch me crash

a string of weddings

between body and shape

leave a harem of stolen grooms

cuddling and lamenting 

a perfect escape

but for the suits

on their backs.

 

II

Pull the ladder down

out of my brain.

Their ideas a calendar millennium

of unused McDonalds vouchers.

Off the rung

my claw steadies to scalp

the stamps they sent my letters with

postal strike lewd broadcast

If the words for how I know myself

are banned before 9pm

install a sun in their lounges

let them watch past bedtime.

 

III

I dunk a smile 

In tingling vinegar

Hard facts and love hormones

make the space behind my eyes soft

To labour through a day

On sweaty digital fields

I put a disc weight down

Like brining cabbage

Fruity funk musky salt

Somewhere there’s a deli

Serving my desires

I won’t be shy, I’ll say

more pickles on that, boss