The poem on her t-shirt had all
the grabbers at the start

lizards, gravel, lark

He shrank into the tamale line
while she slinked away for java

medium, tedium

Deep down her reptile self
she shelved the pebbled mountains

dark visored travel

Beyond, the dimpled river
he waited his desire

sausage, salsa

She found a potter
who made his own cobalt glaze

fartsy wizard cavil

He was still waiting his chicken tamale–
she back from “clay on his own terrain”


He was so hungry everything rose
like gravel in the gorge.

unravel, my gizzard heart

She held her creamy hazelnut
to his mouth

craving dark