ANTHONY ROBINSON
Mastery of a thing and its particulars dim
clouding hanging
into
you all at once centrifugal
force a dynamism blow-dried
Donne, not
getting a bathhouse vibe. I wrote a dissertation then I tore
it up. Petals on the gurney. Stopped
fearing death stopped
fearing sonnets we aren’t writing drew
a bath forensically
first bright day first sun in
weeks & smothered her
forehead
his anklebone fashioned into a weapon semester
grades posted
on a billboard hangs
over El Cajon Boulevard my
hive, my buzz
leather coats product placement commerce between us