Leveler Poetry Journal
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Lisa don’t disallow me

there’s a brilliant

mole on your torso I already

love running

my fingers over your gold

ring & lashes

your coffee

there’s agave there’s peanut

butter inside it I kissed

you & last night

(It’s birds! I think of you

crying & the sundown amiss)

who are you last night

I asked in the pitch I even

asked where are you lisa

you venture

your tongue like hazarding

(as one says) a guess

well does that make my mouth

a problem like

why can’t I have sugar today

or lisa there’s trouble

inside me I snuff & I tense

my flanks & charge

so hard at a woman

a mule if you

will treading the scrub under

his hooves I need a word

like rampage I rampage

toward you & never

see the rodeo clown his blue

face on the other

side of your flag & gut

busted & laughing

himself to death a mole

on your trunk is all

I want to suss out today the name

you’re brave lisa or cringe

at the word you say

this composes me & wince

or say yes a mole that’s what

I feel like championing

Danniel Schoonebeek