No tears No tips No meters No nips [well
mayb] No Lyft No Uber No 1-8
hundo But he do wanna kno How yu
been? Where’d yu go? & yu kno yu best talk
harder 2 pin his desire Even
tho we didn’t start the fire yu wait
4 the punchlite The lines of blinker
Yu ask of Mom & Dad & late nite D
sires—dimes o’ lite Till so close yu must
b Southwest Delta American Air
lines Here here is gud don’t worry So he
pop the hood & yu roll in Left ‘em full
gud on the queerer questions of queer kin
-ship What danger cost 2 much patron saint
of patrón? Pain 2 paper alchemy?
Skycap’n of the pitiful sellin’ out
damn spot!? My politic ain’t got a pot
dealer 2 piss off I’m peppery—I’m
emphatic as an amphetamine Can’t
cut myself out of me in2 the blank
holes of nite The whole pre-fires The whole
—Okay okay I started the firelol
boring in2 the air via port Bony-ass
horizon I’m drug poor I pay my way
Copyright © 2018 by Kamden Hilliard. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on August 20, 2018, by the Academy of American Poets.