Digital also, say you are in last year and cocking a knife/
not-gun, waiting for your rant/
not-liquor, waiting to get soberer and soberer.
Is there something you could use inside you?
What would you call it, obsidian?
A lesion/pool/cancer. I love the way you spell cancer
and mean something else. I have a cancer sore.
Here, come taste it. My mouth feels almost strange
enough, as if you’d slapped me already.
I will not be the butt-end of your handle.
I will carry a flint, a firestarter,
and it will be in my pocket.