we think in thorium and mercury

jutting hips

like tailgate tableau

in heavy metal parking lots

we think in lead and radium

strutting lips

like streaked rearview

in heavy metal parking lots

lovers

and love

errs

periodically

you with a copy

of The Catcher in the Rye

alloyed in the waist

of your Levi’s—

we think in chromium and arsenic

cutting up and folding in

the acid trips

of heavy metal parking lots

we smoke

slam nuclei into each other

exist for a fraction

then disappear into other elements

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Damon Hubbs: film and art lover / pie bird collector / lapsed tennis player / author of the chapbooks 'Coin Doors & Empires' (Alien Buddha Press), 'The Day Sharks Walk on Land' (Alien Buddha Press) and 'Fly Creek' (forthcoming from Naked Cat Publishing) / poems featured in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Otoliths, Roi Fainént Press, Does It Have Pockets, Apocalypse Confidential, and elsewhere / lives in New England / Twitter @damon_hubbs