WITH LOVE AND DREAD AND RAGE AND LOVE, Or is it anticipation cut perversely Something must happen Dear ones, say you feel it too Parts of my body are blank It's not a wish but it's also not Cassandra I think about the word era I'm working on ferocity and frankness: This poem fails Here an affect there an affect Let's reclaim sad Is it foreboding if it's factual Okay a little wish I think about the words period of my life It's an endurance act Her father dies and I keep wading He has to see the cardiologist I want to commit to the poem but I can't I get cold and cultivate selfishness She says each generation is called a word in the poem I write patience in my notebook I wait for my period and drink a Corona I try to make it a speech act Have I given myself permission to inhabit my body I think about the alien inside I think about the phrase unwanted advances Parts of our bodies are blank I put my fingers on your coronaries Come at me