just a touch
from my poetry collection, "Touch of Consumption"
Image description:
.
.
Thankfully
No one says
“Just a touch of consumption”
Anymore
.
In the same way Millie Jackson once said to an audience “there’s no such thing as a little bit of aids,
except from the government”
.
Just a butterfly kiss
Of tuberculosis
.
Just a pinch of
Flesh-eating virus
.
Just a little pixie dust of death
.
Just
.
Just
Touch
.
And consume
And consume
The new new
The shiny
Illuminated;
.
Broodworthy
The devastating
.
The delectable spectacle
the habit that hits me
right in the clit
.
Twitch for it like glasses that are
Not on your face
.
Reach for it
.
like the empty space
of a lover replaced because
.
I’ll fucking cut my own liver out
To feel less lonely
.
.
.
Long Covid’s made its home in a body without its own
Cause the shot couldn’t make
you hot enough
.
.
But what
Will the doctors do
When everyone is skinny
And they’re all still sick
Without sick days
.
.
.
.
.
.
My ennui’s not heroin chic
And there’s still too much unsaid
.
Need to dead dead dead the best of my memories
.
shred the page that says you were meant for me
.
.
.
La la
la la ;
la la la-la
la la la la—
Land holy land
Lotsa boxes to
Lock each other up in
And you’re never never never never gonna
.
Leave
.
Like a
.
.
.
.
.
Tragic
.
Disease
.
Picked out
.
.
just
.
For me
.
At least, that’s how the story goes
.
I’ve wasted all this time
Waiting for oasis
.
Take me up into space with you
.
Because what else
Is there to do
.
Except
.
Touch and consume
.
And shill for the rich
.
God fuck me I’m sick
.
Because who
.
else
.
will I be?
.
If some
thing
else
isn’t consuming me?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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