>hand tattoo

>sharp shovel sting
on a sun beat hand
outlined cross, a burial mound
the dirt puckers, rises
as if someone were pushing up
from a slammed down palm. i am
rushing home to you curled
weakly or coiled, licking yr teeth
on our couch, but either way
any way, you are loved
insanely: Preciously burnt, your ear warm
against my chest, lub dub, a-lub dub, lub dub.

the grim industrial ink flickers
dying neon, it is panic who bites first
oh, how my shoes could use a shine!
this is how i know i love you.

>pun

>Opportunity comes a dozen times a year
Mix the sperm, the just-right egg, bake
Then paint on the makeup: Light rouge
Coverup, eye shadow. Dig a man-high hole.

Yesterday morning i locked
a sun-lit swushing, algae-
eaten stare in a mason’s jar.