by Andrés Salas
top right screen, twirling leaves, mouse
clumsy-slides and clicks around, green -
her slipped, drooping lip, a kinked
half-circle, slumps across her own black braids
and bared curves, hard bumps pressing
and ending, and fading, progresses.
detach from the world to feel Self,
ohm-mouth slack, verbless and mental,
sufficient non-nothingness with left-behind traces,
still swarming around, to play missile defense
mind games, and run wave simulations, washing
interior beaches with Moon phases
****
Andrés Salas is a poet living in Queens, NYC, with poetry in Charm School, Spectra Poets, and Plague Circus Press. https://espooky.info/