45*21

you've eaten the message with letters spaced
in the back of your head, a slot
someone can reach behind and see with finger
little cutout stars break the skin
it smells of onion being cooked
hangovers made them bleed from the ears
this grossed out the teenage girls in the audience
Mohamed stuck his fist up to the camera
a little bit of spit danced on his lower lip
the cup revealed no ball
he did a somersault into the street
stood up smiling at a woman in leopard
she was nervous & switched on a device
he seemed to disappear into vapor
the woman sold bags of lavender
to old Hasidim with stained and un-tucked shirts
they took them back to their wives
a secret organization of abstract expression
they drink heavily and paint their nails green
this expresses joy and defiance at the same time
and you can hear it all ticking in the background