from there we set sail

To survey and plot
gender with a scope
tripod and chalk make
metaphors of valleys
and hills “hot mounds”
“steaming crevices.”
Circumnavigate anchor
fight off all marauding
intruders. I seem to

Recall that Drake left
behind his brother
in the bush with the
friar; well you know
what happened I
don’t have to shake
it out of you. Old lady

Repairs a wound with
needle and thread borders
grow together uneven
and puckered. From
there we set sail. From
there we hike out and
“we just can’t understand
their objectification” but grow
to love their scars; worship

The virgin deer and dynamo
suited and hair-shirted
mendicants we prayed
God to send a messenger
with stories to remember
how to touch our bodies
and can we sit with that
for a spell typing letters

He wrote and encrypted
upon himself his own
propensity for sub-
limation. That fingering
just beyond keyboard
might inflame a nervous
tic the ditch we hid in
high on sacred thistles

The woman, I am, is an ad
burned on an earlobe tattooed
lip hair woven into facts
and cleverly tied knots of
skins and dried intestines
scrubbed 99 cent nations