clockwork agent

don’t want it, i i i
don’t want its familiar shape
don’t want terrestrial pressures
don’t want it, not today

can’t handle it, my stiff arms
they don’t bend– not that way
can’t have it, i i i
can’t want it– it can’t stay

all dissolves with ten little oranges
divided, popped like clockwork
nothing swells save my blasted tongue;
ascorbic acid thins our blood

no one sees the bruises i get
from praying, no one
knows my angel’s shame
i suck the bitter from the peels,

down acid to clear my name.

// agent orange