Things I love:

Bacardi drunk young men

still boasting, lips sloppy

pickups that roll out,

up, over, before, still, after, then.

Black ice car fresheners swaying and clacking.

Sulphur, tang, copper, damp.

The lonely sight

of cedar bough underbellies.

Things I dreamed:

Primal brutal damp,

a sick tick tock,

the shock that time was black.

Things I hate:

Paramedic pants leaning,

Officious compresses.

Hope, help, hug, hugs.

Spine fusing wishes

And knee knobs of loess

Crumbling under therapist Samaritan hands.

Things they might say:

Mary hails

Murmers and hushes.

Things that will not matter:

Floating forms.

Nurses, morphine-hoarding heroes.

Pain’s cousin,

Not seen since the reunion.

Things that will not change:

Make-a-wish trips.

Three wishes for three more wishes.

Chariots to high arc blue.

What is still swaying where?