Sha-zam


for the wisdom of Solomon


I am sixteen-year-old boy on skateboard /

torn-jeaned Sagittary with wheels for legs


Hear a crinkle of song from the ear buds

sharp sword of guitars / shield of booming toms


See arc of a cheekful / hear the splat

of that Nerd-stained spittle


I've gone all spoons on some girl

Spring tides of semen wash up against my insides


for the strength of Hercules


I am a skinny-armed Figaro /

a greasy-haired hedonist


Again with the weights—again with the medicine ball

Hair wet with sweat / a halo of steam


Time for hamburgers, time for hot dogs,

maraschinos, Cool Whip and mini marshmallows


Smell a grill's smoke and see it rise up

into green trees with sunlit leaves


for the stamina of Atlas


An apron of bees / your order on a pad

My neck is made of nectar


Time for hamburgers / time for French fries

In the kitchen I bitch


On break, smell my cigarette's smoke

Feel the warmth of a taxi's exhaust


Walking out would feel warmer than any sun

I want to be that bicycle's wheels

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