For Mr. Q.
If I knew you’d like it
or, at least,
I’d throw cans of paint
all over you.
I would tattoo your limbs
braid pipe cleaners into your hair
wrap them around toes and fingers,
paper-mache your face
with coffee filters soaked in honey,
straight from the comb.
I would seek out a bee keeper I trust
to supply the sweet sticky stuff.
I would lick the honey to the filters, and the filters to your face.
Lick these to your face.
Lick your face.
If I knew these things would
if this would soften your gritted teeth to a smirk,
I would do these things,
or these kinds of things.
I’d take a hose to you.
And do it all again.
Written Tuesday, May 27th, 2012.