27 New York Chefs Standing over Primordial Soups

jumping rope

jumping through
time

the juggernaut
unable to
pause

knitted trains
of intricate boldface
patterns

and the speech coach wants
you to get it out

the pumped stomach
as well

a distant colony
with no shoulders
to cry on

27 New York chefs
standing over primordial
soups

sitting up in bed
sleepless

the closet full of V-necks
and rangy spiders

my 19^th century self
still masturbating
in the
outhouse

while dying men die

and living men
do something
else.