The drawing you gave me
is on the door to the freezer
and I think of you
like 'getting a beer' often --
or when someone mentions conformity.
There are polished stones
in the fridge next to the pickles.
of crackled, crystallized caramel;
breathing mass of stoppage,
deliberately picked at, bitten,
mazed cleavage to a Pacific calm.
Perched on the peak of a continent,
head raised to orange vaudeville clouds,
hesitating the leap east,
I'm reminded of Hegel -
I grasp with green swollen fingers
at a crack of ego --
perhaps a grappling hook
and a boost from the moon,
perhaps just patience.