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LOVE FINDS YOU LIKE A POSSE IN BULLETPROOF VESTS


A new teller at the drive-through window,

she wants proof you’re who you are,

a stream of despondent electrons,

light of the same crumbly consistency

as the snowflakes melting

in the lonely blackness of a Goth girl’s hair.







SIDE EFFECTS MAY INCLUDE


waking in the morning still drunk,

problems with zippers,


dull visits from the better angel of your nature,

self-attempts at a heart tattoo,


occupation by an army of mercenaries,

a neighbor who keeps goats,


fear of drowning in the bathtub,

curiously fat fingers, and, in severe cases,


a soul like a broken shoelace.