Foreigner
I. Opening Chorus
there’s a girl who always pulls at her honeylion hair
& I’m not sure if she’s a trichotillomaniac or if she just likes
the feeling of fingertips kissing
is all we think about but I can never that
one unless I give up & play at necrophilia.
You are ghost how you haunt me,
inhabit that delicate sound between
deflation & tumescence,
boredom & arousal.
The professor does not care to know
but I raise my hand anyway & say:
“infatuation is the factorial of obsession &
he has turned invasive weed species—
so how can I not wild sunflower,
& sway in a mountain breeze?”
II. Intermission
“Let’s make sense of this
in a rational way.”
III. Dénouement
no
I want to nestle; wrestle
honeywasps; drown.









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