curfew

give the midnight neon
the benefit of the doubt.
we might just have enough animals
for the kind of revolt
with butter & lamb. without 
harps & without running.
we sneak out like only cockroaches can. 
you tasting the fallen pizza tree.
a dump or a future honeymoon.
slaughter daughter. slim laugh.
catch your breath. catch ur lilies.
copy & paste the old trauma 
but make it teal this time.
if i could be home already 
with the tv turned on to watch 
what happened, i would press “record.”
don’t try to sooth the beast.
just feed the beast ginger until 
he sings. tell me a lullaby backwards.
talk to the river with me.
i have come to feed it my teeth one by one then finally
let go my tongue so that it
can become the little fish
it always wanted. here are
our brief & rust-sticky lives.
tell me it’s not true. the sirens
have never been barefoot like us.
we have hunger on our side
by which i mean
the police are the agents of
anti-desire & to long is 
to live. we are fighting monuments.
they are fighting pigeons.
we sit on the roof of the broken
train station. wait for the sun
to slip one leg free of the blankets.