Spit it Out
I am the Listerine spit
in your pristine cavities.
I am the coral stench
you inhale as you bench
and pretend I care about
body mass index.
I am the gap in your front teeth,
the slantwards black
swallowing the bourbon before
a breath is drawn.
I am your Saturnight
that unconnected dot
waiting for the line,
a sign, to be drawn.
Who cares what I am!
You are the starboy.
You are the time, the rhyme,
a sing-song voice
saying just one time.
You are the 12 o’clock shot
the 1 o’clock drunk
and the 2 o’clock madman.
I was the empty glass,
not half anything.
When the bottle broke,
So did I.
Go ahead, you.
Spit out the hand-holding,
face-cupping, almost-smiling.
Spit out that unfelt love.
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