Never Mix Coffee with Methylphenidate
you will die a viking-death
astride the keeled reticulations
of the world-serpent,
each coil a barb along a pelt of goosebumps,
each thrum a promise in the dark:
the voice in your head telling you to breathe;
the figure of an impulse along the vagus nerve;
The wet bilious opus
—a knell swollen in grass, its girdle thick with climax, its climax frayed and molting.
when you die in a car accident
—
your mid-sized sedan overturned
and leaking, the echo on the other
end of the line, promises pooling
in the curve of your flushed, rent cheek
—
you will enter a hall of white curtains lit
by fruit, the curtains trembling
in loose articulations of air; the fruit,
embers in the bough of a great, golden tree.
Zachary Corpuz received his BA’s in both Creative Writing and Communication from the University of Colorado Boulder. His work has previously appeared in The Thought Erotic.