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