Well it turned out classically

my desire was to be desired, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t read

any of that stuff, I mean I’d read a bit. But I made no

connection between that and

me

when I drive past the body of a deer,

struck down in the middle of the road,

sometimes whole, sometimes not,

I’ll tell you what happened backwards

to erase the memory

ut never wear, the ones I double back for and pluck

from the rack on impulse, that I smuggle into dressing

rooms in my search for something that looks like anyone

 to you, I am worth less then the camera you shot me with the money you make selling this daguerreotype to other white men who hide me

Like everything else
non-white and woman
the doctor said, it should go.

in may
the heat fester just ova
asphalt hot