In Your Absence

It's always sex o'clock somewhere.
In honor of my outsider status
I present you with medicine
conceived in liberty, swallowed
in 3-D. That'll set the swan song swinging
if anything will; they say it's a cozy time
to be alive, and they would know
who know how to drive.

Heat, stern wife to humidity, is moving
upon us, will question us shortly.
Quick, tell me again about your gag reflex.
Presently I'll belly up and
snooze, squeezed in among archaic torsos.
Far away, across the street, it's Saturday night.

§   §   §

Smell You Later

Better shove off. It's time to flush beauty
from incredulity's redoubt. Good luck

doesn't apply here, let alone matriculate.
Professor Pleasure's gone away; rainbows

scared him, blasting in through windows,
introducing all new semen spray ---

a single serving will light up the coast for a day
or so. Yes, the universe picked your nose

and that's impregnable, but you asked for
nothing less. Don't we all, before we go?

--- Matt Walker