I don't know how I woke up next to your body & a wall of PBR but I guess I'll stick around for a while
we fucked daniel johnston into our heads
all rumble bodies/ devil hands
idling clutch, a hard turn
to curl & choke
catch skin/ my teeth
spit & suck back before it hits floor,
load me up ready, to do it all again.
what is love what is love what is love if
not handing endless quarters
to feed pinball through my body
all pbr/ whiskey & attack from mars!
have I dreamt these movements
from golden ether, unidentified objects
pending in chest/ dents that fill me full
machine, your hands held out to turn me
rhythm into skin
against your hands/ a captive ball.
what if what if what if love
was the moments between
matter/ the movement found while
careening space, that
sweet hot gasp of breath
before collision, metal clang kinetic
that transfer between
two daring bodies
lost & settling for heat
when there's nothing left to do?
C.M. Keehl lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan