1.

“I think I broke my thumb from hitting you.”

“I’m sor--”

“You can’t say sorry to that.”

2.

This that before us, fulsome, splintered, wandered into,

wanted, O, away a dalliance

’tween resuscitive tut & brow-down kolony trothing,

gas-splet brung out the beaut’s gore, two-toned, I wiled,

ungarroted. A sandy therefore-defile.

A never-been Tucson, the warrant’s fulgent aerosol

while, finicky, acres burn sorrow whose lake presents the knoll smoke-endured.

3.

Why wouldst one unmurder,

4.

what is done is fun, the past is a jibber that numbs!

5.

Meanwhile, at the dog café,

the phosphorus sausage is sentient: and it wishes

fortune’s disease partake of you. That you who sups

could call slimy history none argue.

THE WURST INTERROGATION nones you.