medicine, as a sign of compound sex tapes 

young yellow pill
on her side
also flat on grey plains
hidden in plain sight
in pockets
on tour bus

a complicated tincture of numbers calculated in cell
one forgets to call the wheel watcher
alternate roads
bus waits opposite stations
opposite junglism
opposite drug dealing hot spots

where young yellow pill
half naked in sour light
pose with dry fingers
packs of mineral water cups
awkward and accommodating

cut sizes of maps
follow international paper guidelines
section off buildings and fuck closets
track the track marks

we dress the pharmacist with red emblems
we dress in pharmacology
we listen to chemtrails
erecting gauntlets, ecstasy
embellishments on virgin war paths

we sit where we may on the bus
never really leaving
aware of the tirade of wheel watchers
who check our call lists
reprimanding absent mindedness

we pray
that the young yellow pill
doesn’t turn into powder

#poetry, #poem, #writing
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