JUST DESSERT by Jay Passer

simple laughter
is forbidden
without a permit
the plan is to invade
the city of your
Body
take out the trash
where is it going?
back to your
Body
we will take away
the features of your face
stumbling is sanctioned
but falling preferred
don’t leave home
or we will
find you a new one
without windows or doors
no birds outside
or trees either
the wind like cold
concrete
on the deck of a
warship
sharp as
the blade
of the helicopter
simple
slyness
will not be tolerated
we will topple
your Pieta and your
David
any Heroes out of Myth
are fair game
for our federal
force
we’ll harvest the vitals
from the vaults
of your fortitude
we’ll pick the flowers
out of your ears
with machinery
constructed from bones
amassed from the
smoking pyres
of vanquished
demonstrations
try something new
try the corner bodega
whale meat and dog chops
eagle egg soup
camping outdoors
prohibited
no hiding in caves or
holes in the ground
we
will
find
you
and we will prosecute
until you bleed compliance
your funny tricks
your Naked Athenas
will be aborted
scrap that vacation
all borders are closed
sweat
semen
snot
back to the
Body
blind deaf or dumb
it’s your choice
pick one
before we really
start taking
extreme measures
look on
the bright side
tours of the armory
tax-deducted
bipartisan agreement
obsolete
bread lines
fast-moving
smiles
painted to the faces
of the robots
wielding arms
delicious candied
rubber bullets
for dessert

Jay Passer's work has appeared in print and online since 1988. His work has been included in several anthologies and he is the author of 10 books, the most recent being The Black and the Blues, from Alien Buddha Press, 2018. Passer lives and works in San Francisco, the city of his birth.