MICHAEL RUSSELL

if there’s a multiverse 

what bottom have i collapsed? 

my face flat against concrete 
cheek licked by the cold
tongue of refrigerator water

i submit     no bed 

to coddle my potato sack 
body     no how-to guide 
on how to bounce back 

wind my elbows & plank 

my wrists     lift     
heave this circus of flesh
into the present moment

if one moment can tap dance 

into the next 
then one moment can tap dance 
into a train wreck     

an endless pandemic 

of coping mechanisms that fall 
face first into relapse     
deluge     the stomach’s vomit     

cherries     strawberries     red sour candies 

if there’s a multiverse     i’m sure
there’s a variant of me 
gagging with laughter     

rib-skinny & smiling     

tongue tucked neatly 
behind a row of gapless teeth     
a variant who writes poems 

in bed & knows the blood 

magick of a good night’s rest
a variant who gets rearranged
in a toolshed     plows his boyfriend 

in a stranger’s bed     

a variant whose father 
wasn’t stabbed in the neck     
his legacy     a glimpse-

&-you-miss-it 

mugshot     
a variant who isn’t stuck
pacing the basement     

with mop & bucket      

swish-swashing nightmares 
of sewage     storm 
water     the melting snow