By Michael Earl Craig - Nov 8, 2017
C O L O S S E U M
I am sitting in a café with my right hand up to my face.
My hand smells like fresh laundry.
I watch a muffin go by. A baby swats
with his fist, dumping a lemonade.
I have a hand to my face and it smells like fresh laundry.
Someone’s grandma is covered in new green-blue tattoos.
There is the sadness of unwed despots,
the chromed anger of the espresso nozzle,
a man with what looks like potatoes in his pants—
one in the front and one in the back.
People are squirting Sriracha onto everything.
People, squirting Sriracha onto everything.
H E I M L I C H ’ S B E A G L E S
Heimlich (of maneuver)
and his beagles.
Die Beagles von Heimlich.
Seine Manöver mit/auf Beagles.
Sein besonderer Weg
T H E B O D Y B U I L D E R
The body guards
guarding the body
of the body builder
waited out front
in recently washed
grand piano black
He drove them
mad, taking fifty
minutes to pick out
a tea cup. Holding
one, staring at it,
air sipping; holding
another, in different
light, air sipping,
cocking his head.