A God Lives in the Amygdala
I heard Amy Winehouse today, jacked up fast & techno, for my heart.
The leaves fell the way Rilke saw them fall: all motioning no, no, no.
I heard the brown bats that roost under the bridge over the lead mills.
And the cats crying in heat with the warn & want of a baby.
I live in a jewel-toned neighborhood. One day, as I strolled past the
a small forest of Queen of Night tulips
blossomed into a whole night sky.
Next day, each Queen’s stamen weakened, let loose & wept.
Do you know that nothing outside of our mouths will save us?
A god lives in the amygdala, but he is weak, too, asleep under the new
Did you see an angel’s viscera across the sky?
Back when I was young and always broken hearted, I, too, fell into a
fever and drank
vodka chilled next to fat halved lemons in the bowl.
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