beautiful is

another

kind of

fortified

sand dunes

make the

gimp stick

I sit on

the behemoth

to detect

her druze

clues

caught in

qalandia

she tells

me to read

the case as

an act of

national

limerence

then implicates

beats me

drew upon

six-pointed sky

things

cracked

shoulder

turned

over on

ground

hand behind

back

breasts pushed

into breathing

//

"giddiup"

now by the

grenade

it's time

for the

gavel:

are you

friends

with jean genet?

m'am

he's french

and you

are 17

an anjo

silver-lined gold

encrusted

platinum

juiced

a golden fleece

even

a dogsitter señorita

a phalanx

on the gaze

salty

flowers

among the

desert made

to bloom:

long hair

eyelashes

behaved

off with me!

let's go!

ptooie!

kisses!

bruises!