DISCLOSE THE SHADY LOCATION IN WHICH YOU LURK
Mother and father were nude models.
Neither of them ever hit me. Once
I bit my mother so she bopped me
which is different. I had crossed the street
wrong; proof everything has a punishing
angle. Like the famous piledriver.
Mother and father were never called either
but mom and dad sounds infantile.
Mid-spring, I tugged galoshes on. Not in any
cement moment, ran out to kiss tree tissue.
Thinking of bark as skin is correct. Trees
tend to be correct. When I put my lips
on a tree I taste the project—