← v14n2, Fall 2015
Poetry · Volume 14, Number 2

o(vers)ight

My bottled water’s top falls out of my periphery. So the mouth remains uncovered.

During the play, you say the twins look nothing alike. Let us pretend that is a trick statement. One woman is playing both parts. Her expression the primary costume change.

Downtown with links of one-way streets. Turn right or wrong. The play also insists there can be birthmarks on the tongue.

You say babies look at you like you are insane. A baby in line for a burrito with pinpoint blue eyes. Precision is not the sane or same. As accuracy.

A virgin piña colada sweats on the table. I try to not be mushy. Can’t change my striped shirt. I reveal I have a blender in storage.

I do not push buttons but un-. The moon is behind so many things. A dry, free champagne. The night with dichotomies. A glow or a shadow. Two cars switching into the same lane.