The Second Most Important Thing.

Smoking Notices

posted on mouth's roof, unscorched,
rather, submissive, to lukewarm noodles.

I like room temperature food.
As a smoker I, well I, before I
made nicotine dessert (and pre-breakfast,
coffee, the drive to school [and back],
too), second only to flavor I
wanted clear indications of hot and
cool. Lavasoup and icy fruit. Texture -
tongue welcomes anything, after
becoming acquainted with sperm - no,
just taste and temp for calories one
needn't suck for -

I de-emphasized degrees after afew
years of - rebellion - smokers notice
flavor less, there are reasons one
cannot become a registered connoisseur. In
order to re-tart strawberries and
de-bland butter I
ran out of room on the kitchen counters
and stored my shampoo in the freezer.

I watched food sit when it should be chilled
or heated waited a few extra minutes to
consume a slice of pizza. I can't have a
competition with flavor and you, temperature
are seeded high. By pushing food to rot it
oxidizes or screams to be used gives up on
preserving and succumbs to the tongue to
the mouth that chews it; the only
exception I make is for sperm.

Port Babies.

Babies at the airport.
feeding each other onion rings.
Neither had been breast-fed.
An infant purchasing cigarettes, basically.

The other infant prefers sipping milk with coffee.
a nipple-width latte.

Babies get dragged around states with no oceans.
babies understand that leaving is just motion,
the same motion that arrives.
but babies still cry at airports sometimes.

He might not order a ginger ale
and pick some stale peanuts over with
you but you will remember

waking up from a dream of him.
and then turning your head
and actually seeing him.

for that moment the world in your mind
and the world outside
harmonized.

Maybe that's why you feel so young at the airport.

Jealousy Barn

primal or maternal?
Interrogation devices thickly-buttered with laughs
fat and oozing laughs.
processed laughs.

The milking of Truth:
-a demanding turn here-
-a regretting turn there-
Churning until the mixture reaches desired viscosity.

Too clarified. Not like breasts dripping desire,
primal, maternal, off-yellow.
Like the thirsting shiver in a barn.
Like nursing courage soft and warm.