by Kia Groom
I am G’s sexy PEZ dispense-
her. Open wide, he says,
& show me all
that sweet. My knees are weak.
My knees are knees repeating sing-
song jingle tones to floorboard cracks.
G holds my head. Sharp
fingers push, he says you all look the same
with your necks pushed back.
My jaw-spring creaks. I stare
plastic as G tells me all
the holes he bodies:
fox holes, wormholes, grave
holes, holes in pipes &
in flesh-lights & secret soft
wet holes in all our bodies.
G fills so many holes that he forgets
to fill himself. He thinks in hole & not
hole. When my mouth is open I am not
hole. You want this, G reminds me,
slicking my cartoon lips,
you want to be collectible,
cheap and precious. I count
the times I’ve swallowed:
six months learning dislocation, six
months apprenticing to death, & six
white pills that rattle in my skull
to keep me useful. My gullet
is a two-way street. I pump
up candy. G says open
wide he says snap back the hole
in your neck he says
I have something you can do with that two-dollar wince.