Coral Springs

Brewing two-ity, a woman
and me, I and I
and a man who told
the world, nothing.

Foisting relief
in respite on unready
electric thumbs,
by the deserted
cowfields after
an ellipsis—

cogitative, peripatetic,
peninsular at a cost.

Prying a loose administration
to our nightly
adolescence save
an orphan’s subconscious-

English, Columbian assistant
posturing mid-sixteenth
century’s long-distance,
obscurantist phonecall, tall,
over furious green blackboard,
pale, green, as generators

beneath a faithless finger-