Fusion by Jay Passer

I’m the hologram your mother always warned you about
you are a warm ladleful of hollandaise

nothing was quite real for me as a child
except for the collie dog that I was allergic to

I’m a slurp of stone soup and a compulsive masturbator
you are pillows and panties and selfies and candy

old age is growing in all the wrong directions
my scrawls are hardly at risk of arrest and imprisonment

while you execute gymnastic quirks of charisma
balancing nuclear warheads on your elbows

I collate geographical innuendoes on photoshop
as the sky remains cluttered with ominous misgivings

I quake and quiver after a particularly intense reverie
a grizzly bear on the loose or an alligator or an elephant

or the Venus de Milo in disguise as an ecdysiast
visions summoned in an instant via smartphone

to unlock the grail of my fervor for you
I have yet to conjure the perfect password

Jay Passer 2

Jay Passer’s work has appeared online and in print since 1988. He lives and works in San Francisco, the city of his birth. His latest chap, Flower Omelette, co-authored with Misti Rainwater-Lites, is available from Lulu.


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