As in, that which occurs often,
  narrowed by revelry

Calm never comes that comes
  but even if I were the wine 

  that’s relatively clean heat

Powder for each cheek
   papier mâché

The tonic for internal 

Call me hot stuff. 
Spin spidersilk hoods




Sublimate anything
  and the name 

Call me brimstone.
Sing my lungs and bathe
  the lashes that spell

in seams 
and war.

to all
of wrath, rising steady
as steam along the highway

for every house.

of hallowed ground 
and scraped-up girl. 

complaining is a burn
         purgative by nature. 

so you see
not light but edible
darkness—the ship above 
         the last white whale.

into manageable form 
flowers. Is flower. 




the letters 
the brightest salt.