Nationwide

“I’m bad, I’m nationwide.”

What can I steal from myself
that I haven’t stolen from you?
My heart on the end of a matchstick

out the window of a car.
I don’t want to appear polite
to the sticky ice cream of your love

which has stabbed itself
on the corner of this New York City street.
After the towers crumbled

all they could find of you was lost.
Same here, Texas far removed
from the seashells that rattle

in my brain and in my stomach.
Eyelashes sting the tongue,
and sell revenge from coast to coast.