I tried making dents
but they just looked like
ellipsis leading my pretend audience
somewhere else.

And some guy said,
after asking how to relax
when I had given him reiki as a
nice favor,
smirking on my apartment floor:
“What do you look like naked?”
“How much?”

And I stood tall and robust
like a weed in Kensington’s
concrete garden:
stepped on but then
suddenly growing
into a gun.



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