Head under a good forty seconds: the sauce
Of the solution. No more blood tests, cysts.

Call it Christmas the day the familial gauntlet
Disappears. Helping others feels…forget the

Thousands right after your birthday, the millions
That year. Can’t quantify their photos when under

Let alone remember what disorders you won’t
Ensure to the next generation. Forget the

Full hatred, the waves of biology through which
You plod, these darker mornings, all they own.

Forget what falls apart: computer fan, sound
Card, drum panning, watch band. We have

To  mix our violence, keep everyone safe from
Our anger with our rot. Erasure: in the bath.

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