Black Moon Lilith: 3

last summer is still now

seventy degree November

 

we are not at the beginning of the narrative

Trump pledges to deport three million people

 

Obama deported two point five million in his time

a clump of overcooked chicken

 

stuck in an overworked jaw

tendons, sinew, it lost its heat

 

but it is still in my mouth

they need to pull two more of my teeth out

 

seven cavities last summer (right now)

I am flossing in fall

 

pieces of meat fall into the sink

blood on my soft palette

 

chew through the residue

the gateway to digestion: how do we swallow this

 

the doorstep to the next era

bursts open as we loom here in summer

 

a balmy moon suspends us

pending winter requires a new strategy

 

but when will we feel the ice?

mash it up without chipping those cuspids

 

without tearing strips of flesh from vulnerable bowels

carrot in a potato peeler