that I stare up into the night
surrounded by more night
fear for my life in a lizard way
a lord sips my gimlet
the juniper on the air
isn’t even my breath
do gin and lime
a proletarian drink make?
that I have memorized the alchemical ratios;
flour, sugar and butter
make the same cookie dough
whose recipe is printed on
the Nestle Tollhouse chocolate chips
a company that will not guarantee
their golden cacao isn’t harvested
by the leaden labors of
enslaved human beings
morsels of Parcelsus
that I stare up into the night
my eyes locking briefly with couplets of stars
yeux staring back at me
witness my smallness
that the muscle memory of my middle right finger
has been groomed
developed a new lizard brain
keen on the refinement of sigils
articulation of runes
alphabets that mean nothing
but sound everything
out
even flipping a bird
looks poetic
we’re raw
that reviving the earnest ghost of sincerity
in an age of mockery
is an errand for fools
we are applying for the job
we have unlimited potential
a new beginning
that the egg whites starch the shirts
structure the cakes
filter the grapes
that the yolks are left to
eat the rich