by Suzán Jiván
Mom & Mom-
Mom Suzán
Narrow alleyways
of long-vanished skullcaps
buzzing bugs of summer
become hardly hummable
largely punked never seen coming
refusing to wake up
save for the sound
of rockets in the pitch dark
as massacred heartthrobs
spout reams of techno-jargon
ninnily obvious
sweet-naturedly frisky
under the influence of,
" Is that all there is? "
meticulously wincing
compulsively free-spirited
yet never exactly accurate
tactically impacted
by collateral damage...
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