The Thirteenth Sex

The crevice rests in chemical complacency. Invested in the body
as entirety, spit shined by the queens
of industry—

a myth! O yes. My favorite Perseus. Dandy story, losing one's head.
Blind pursuit and snakes tied up like birthday
bows.

Cannot read no more. I'd sing but Johnny at the bar, alone.
Still the big empty is often
required

for these competitions. Johnny can from the shifting be "this"
or the end of "this."
Behind

the unwashed glass: Johnny a replica self, in life vest. I've been needing
and I've been thinking
about needing—

yes.