AS BOSTON STARES DUMBSTRUCK AT MY THRUSTING ASS
As Boston stares dumbstruck at my thrusting
ass and hips you are a cracked bowl of pink
sand you are a storm of orphaned kites. We
beat it to the siege we beat our paper chests
in the squinting light. They have gold egrets
in their eyes and see us a quake of lumber
and moonflower. When you slipped off your
panties and said How About Now when you
took my fingers in your mouth, how could we
expect an entire city to look away. It’s not like
they’ll arrest us for becoming snow. For finding
the empress of tigers and uncaging. A roar
is a mouse with each individual hair on individual fire.
For impersonating an endless flock of miniature egrets.
A mouse is a roar in reverse and snow becomes
you in your nacre chemise. I want to take you
on the roof. Your hair is always at night.
I want to throw pink sand in the eyes of the empress.
Your hair is always on fire. Your kite string hair
is no cage for tigers your soft mouth says a storm
is a blitzkrieg of egrets is a cage for miniature eye sockets.
When the fountain died you were sitting cross-legged
on the roof of city hall reading tarot for the handless.
That’s not cocaine out there, it’s an invasion.
Nick Narbutas born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, is currently in the MFA Poetry program at Columbia University, a member of the poetry board for Columbia: A Journal of Literature and Art, and the social media intern for Wave Books. His poems have also appeared or are forthcoming in Ghost Proposal, The Journal, and Court Green. Nick can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.