interbirthbooks
handbound volumes of poetry, prose, and prints

       To explode
       Head blown     a war-strapped
       song   We are that fracture
       Rut in heat       a squeaking that
       Cleavage looks like butts!
       and flow my monthly courses
       the Champions Sports Bar
       hunger in the hugging
       today               And awkward
       Pink-brown      wrinkled
       perfumey soap my hands are
       Headache from "Gain"
       The least poetic thing