by Jeffrey Jullich
Visa of Foreign Gender
She wakes end up, top of a sleeping pill. Fake focus.
The vignette plus placebo. A scenario for Romeo in cinnamon.
His stand-in, a chalky boy ceremonially coated in ashes,
Tightens his grip on the voodoo effigy as the spot light
Narrows in a lozenge around the underpaid starstruck.
Cobbled about the vocabulary amulet, above gossip,
The way a molecule is built from totem atoms, shall always,
Both our perspectives made a fine conversation.
Diary, take note: I spoke and listened simultaneously
While he served a smorgasbord of words in sauce.
A panel of speakers
Were listed punctually in the credits, the handsome twosome,
As long-lost brothers reunited knife in sheath.
Imagine the exasperation when the eggs turned out to be mine.
How could I ever look him in the face again peekaboo?
Masks should be made for people's behinds.
"The End" ought to be stamped on that Welcome mat.
The rest rooms all read: testosterone and estrogen.
A cryptic type may result in ill feelings. Proto-criticism.
Chasten feeble heart to survive the fortune cookie.
Tie the fortunes to a tree if it's unpleasant.
In China, a forest of paper ribbons.
First published in ACM (Another Chicago Magazine), 1987
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