Are You Normal Tonight?

The arterial beauty of  Florida is alive in all of its obesity.

                                                                     And the sequin-sellers are doing good business

east of  Granada Boulevard.

—

The sad-eyed woman’s ultrasound image—all dirty blur of gray and ambiguous genitalia—sits

lovingly electric on your newsfeed.

                               And the neighbor with his disorder you invented is going out tonight.

—

The starlet will eat a sandwich and Kevin will push the joke

too far—the vomit, the bobby pins—

                                                                                                     and that’s OK tonight.

—

And your mother, with her rough hands, her quiet advice, has walked

along the sidewalk knowing how cold a wooden house can feel,

                                               wondering whose soft, strange lips she could kiss.