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.