HOW

Poem One

for Robin Reagler

I grew up lower middle class             and on account of this            

an infinite sinkhole of envy             and grunting want

I grew up profligate             something of a gambler            part one the gaining on you

and part two            is the ship cast loose             like the gull’s filthy feather

Oh my god, you’re a dream            I promised            myself one day

I grew up on the edge             of your electrified fence                        like a weed

your melodic             beddy-bye            harshes through doors            I loved/hated your mom

Once we were a suburban gang            and like that             like magnets

a            new classification            to resist                        to abandon

You had a fat mouth            morning cloud            and it kissed me

with wet  dew            which I drank like blood            for its magic            attributes