I am the sound of your mother

biting your father’s ear. after

he smiles, she says, dan,

I sex you. after

he laughs and you, you 

you swoolled at the 

simple over-hertz. youare not used 

to such frequencies, proximities, shakings in 

theair. youhave never felt the sultry

syrup of slippery teeth onyourears, let 

alone the quickened blood 


youhave never felt the sex 

that made you since the sex 

made you eleven years ago, on 

a broken mattress, turning and turning 

inside the ear, like the holy ghost 

filling your bodywithblood.