VERBA VOLENT

swallow it down – verba volent
as they say

over the glade, on some
unsuspecting farmer’s head

our meteor, bottles in the bombshelter
…
enough to make you spit

dim the lights, turn off the radio,
peel back wrappers covering jars
the night before the apocalypse
it’ll just be us –

two under the blanket, that’s it.

smelling our way through a maze
you follow the pipes, their pulse beating
as I try to block the heat.

…
enough of high-pitched divisions
take my bic, and swear by it
not to write me off
sacrosanctly (!)

I expect your reply
before tomorrow morning.

3/24/04
--Michael Sanchez