What am I the antecedent of?
When I shave I feel like a Russian.
When I drink I’m the last Jew in Kansas.
I sit in my hammock and whittle my rebus,
I feel disease spread through me like a theory.
I take a sip from Death's black daiquiri.
Darling, my favorite natural abstraction is a tree
so every time you see one from the highway
remember the ablative case in which I keep
your tilde. (A scythe of moon divides
the cloud. The story regains its upward sweep.)
O slender spadix projecting from a narrow spathe,
you are thinner than spaghetti but not as thin as vermicelli.
You are the first and last indigenous Nintendo.