mocktails 

i'm fully aware there is
a substantial hole in the sun.
or, at least, i am as aware as you can be
about the unraveling. 
we'll all be little donut children
if we're not careful. nothing in the middle.
walking through each other in search
of a mouthful of fat & sigh. 
 i put sunscreen on
in little circles to keep from
becoming tinder. it is an old
wise people trick. once i saw
a man selling candles turn into a thumb.
flames. spontaneous combustion.
we go to the pickled world to pretend
everything is fine. watch the battle.
a woman leans over to ask 
"who is fighting this one?" i squint
to try to see. there is a man selling cocktails 
without any eels in them.
i take one. it's enough to make me swim
to the bermuda triangle to try to escape.
someone is always waving goodbye. someone else
is always showing up & pretending
like salvation is a fried egg.
fast & easy. grease dotting the stove.
the battle is over & the between is empty.
we met once at the arch in washington square park.
you were whole & so was i. terrifying.
the x-acto knife. the blood. i visited the ocean 
with a scream in a pocket. we kissed
& pretended this was all over.
sucking all the flowers dry. hungry bees.
pollen on my eyelashes. i don't make it home.