wooden floors
playing with the pheromone’d opossum
i would retire the bioluminescence
from every equinox on my forehead
to match the hymns at my knees
it is the next month & there is no progress
we all fear a vessel even more when
a fever makes permanence. the
chemtrails have gotten closer chemtrails
wider than the tenacity of being told
i want to save you
i want to save you.
hold rapture & myth in each hand
& decide, knock on the door of a stranger
& tell them
you will save them with rapture & myth
in each hand. naming off specific
destinations, a month goes by.
i burn my weave all
over Europe this baldness, a
blue string around each hand,
really (SPEAKER), are you good?
____________________
WHAT IS MY GENDER? WHAT IS MY PRACTICE
WILL THIS CONIPTION GET ME PITY SEX?
sometimes im so consumed that
i start licking salt blocks &
shouting profanities over the
fan, its like sometimes even
salt isn’t enough &
i could eat every scrap of
dried oregano & maintain
a sense of Americana on a front
porch in a louis Vuitton snap
back like the douchebag i
want to be
____________________
____________________
Rachel Burns has poetry fourthcoming in Deluge, H_NGM_N and White Stag Journal and is the co-founder or Similar:Peaks::. She currently lives in Illinois living every 22 year olds dream.