• and

    parked in my head
    are the enunciations
    pronunciations

    of a million things

    empty cradles
    and spilled soups
    fierce denials
    fiercer declarations

    of love

    and it's no wonder
    that when they press

    against the backs of my eyeballs

    that out will leak a tear or two

    like oil,
    to relieve the pressure
    of my battered rig
    or tormented

    skyscraper citywindows lot.