Mary Biddinger
SUDAFED AND GIN
Listen, I’m falling apart but it was worth it
like eating lunch too fast because you’re walking,
or lurching on the deck of a novelty paddle-wheeler
you wanted to exit the moment they pushed off.
These days I’m mostly dry shampoo and concealer
but at least both are effective. Nobody’s asking
for my identification but here it is, and the cashier
wears a hoodie with a red polar bear dabbing,
and I’ve run over both of my feet with the cart yet
in separate collisions. I’m mealy but at least
that’s still a meal, it could be worse, grad school
when we’d get wrecked on Sudafed and gin.
Sorry, but I do wish I had more photos from back
then, and not just the PVC jumpsuit or halter
built of metal loops. You won’t believe this but
I never thought about the future much. Lost
four or so years down the hole of a blood-mouth
mistaken for a lake. I was dreaming of a man who
ran relatively clean, like a lawnmower engine.