and they will bring you medicine, bald spots
beige suits, the other ones, averting eyes,
grind teeth between pink cotton polka dots.
You sniff their bouquets poppies, powderized
to chase away Forget-me-nots that look like cocks
uncircumcised, hooded ghost, pre-teen hosts
with lubrication from the eyes. A shock
of pornographic memories they dose
you until tears are even upside down,
skull rain through sockets, pestilence of frogs,
another thing you swallow silent. Pound
their violence inside a man made fog.
They wait until you are anesthetized,
avoid what’s childish, peeks from dead brown eyes.