The woman
you prize
a former target
from a shooting game
at the state fair
sets her head to bobbing
quickly up and down
back and forth
whenever you look
directly at her
these days
As soon as you’re awake
you run from her
to flit from place to place
fuming and sputtering
Upon arrival at each
begin to fret
that you should have stayed
wherever you just were
Back home
your dogs
sit near the door
their noses flicking and flaring
waiting for you
They hide
when you turn the knob
to come in
but a few minutes
after seeing to
your unloaded menace
everyone licks your face
even the woman who ducked you this morning
As soon as you’re not alone
you break into a full
wetface aria
“Who am I that they can love me
all of them knowing
I’m the gun
and the bomb
and the kicker”
They tell you to wait till you are alone
to pity yourself
because
you also cannot sing
Dark Matter 
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