Invasive Fantasies, Bankruptcy Court

Beside you,
Courtroom pew.
The man beside me
Could hear me breathe,
Could feel the rush
My skin released.

Attorney XXX was
Much too short
And sharp
With the wife who spent
The family’s hard-earned cash
On glitter heels
And facial masks.

The freshman kid
With a freshman bride
And the oil-field paycheck
And oil-field dreams of
Loaded SUVs,
Cosmetic surgery,
Upward Mobility,
Twenty-something sexy….

I was thinking on
The blue-collar shade of
Forest green
Along the seam of
Your fading slacks,
100%-cotton button-down
And the pen-pocket I could
Crawl inside,
Slimy in an elegant way
And boldly naturalé.

The summoned names,
The bank accounts,
The fourth hour
Becoming six,
My tangled fingers
Your fist,
My nails pressed into
Bruise half-moons
Across the back of your hand.
Which man

Did you have in mind
To bend my spine,
Break the seal
Of propriety,
Invite beneath
The skirt of decency,
Pin my wrists and
Spit in the face of authority?

No income.
No assets.
No boundaries.
Initial here,
And here,
And here.

And please —
Take my card.
Call me.

So much American tragedy,
Collapsed industry,
Old-fashioned irresponsibility.
Such hardship is obviously
Not lost on me.
But Sweetheart,
I would do that
While you do me
While we find a way back
From poverty.