OPEN-BRAIN SURGERY

lunch

i would like to eat

everything that is good in the entire universe.

scrape the earth clean of

its sugared green purity with the

dullest end of a plastic rainbow spoon. swallow the

kinetic energy released by clasped hands, choke it down

with a water called kiss.

i'd take the extra calories in as

jewels for safe keeping.

anything

just to have it all

twinkle and rest

twinkle twinkle rest

inside my belly –

guarded by

a fortress

carved out of

the skinnier, more malleable bones

of my ribcage. keep it all walled up

so that the Good can't fall out.

essences

dripping out of people shaped like

glass perfume bottles–

press once for strawberry kindness

two times for the musk lavender and ash of bravery

twice for how it feels to get a hug from God and all the holy others

their very selves

press with both fingers for one big

olfactory dream–

God drizzles rain sweet as

apple juice on every city, every town. love is

liquefied, carbonated, sold fizzling and bursting out of

old school coca cola bottles

tossed back and forth

crunched under one million billion trillion feet and car wheels and black boots

broken but still sort of

nice always beautiful regardless. cultivated.

all these many good things

like gold

and i, the good queen, the wise one,

collect them all –

the foundation for my

very own kingdom.

looping around and around

castle walls before

settling down to live on the

pinkest pinks of my cheeks

traveling quick through

the road of my throat

slip and slide past the

tonsils past the sore gums past the pizza from before then

the esophagus

taking trips on staircases

wrapped around like

strands of dna

until

until i can feel it

all the time. shake me a little

and the whole world blooms over

with the scent of firewood and mint holding close

to the air.

a flower stands up on its two green roots. a baby keeps two lovers from dying. the toothless man

opens his mouth and

smiles.

i become

something

like an angel.