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.