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Everyone Gasps with Anxiety

13
by Jeni Olin

    The new aspirin is a blue-blooded Burberry model

    With an Oxford classics degree, but my migraine

    Flares beneath a canopy of melanoma-blurring sun

    What pains me is the plain human tangle on the L.I.E.

    And feeling the tricyclics fail me beneath the canopy of melanoma-blurring sun

    And the long pressed-out El Greco bodies stretched

    Liked colorless taffy in the studio and At the Night the States Have Ruined Me.

    Steroid weight gleams off my heart like a chubby Aaron Basha jewelry foot

    A poem that says "Reinvent the vomitorium!"

    And At Night the States have ruined me. I can persuade him

    To be alive and living in hotel rooms is dehumanizing.

    Inside of this I‘m passing out

    From bravery, dyspepsia, the Boy with an Arab Strap

    In fluttering tremolo, the way an air of tremor lives in some bordeauxs but

    Like the Hamptoms rising from the pollutions mist—

    Something so Anglo-Saxon refusing to die or bonnet its frailty

    In layers of preservatives. Please somebody peel me dreamlessly aback

    To inhabit fleshly then brittle climates like a Giacometti fever dream

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