JULIE DOXSEE

Barefoot

In my bikini it’s all I do all day. Seek

the source of the siren I hear

till paralyzed when you go-go dance

or practice rocket-tennis with the erectile

launcher. In that regard, I am a lifeguard

other men can’t understand. I look around

to find out if they hear it too

but every man is already in his invisi-suit

ready for the sun to split into sixths.

Every man is running around making breath-

stroke gestures in his invisi-suit.

I’m alone with the sound either way,

and more slouchy the further I walk.

Monsieur

Tracing your movements in the grove is the only thing

that doesn’t bore me, which is why I swim

so poorly. I had a dream your mouth

opened & the noise got thicker—

there were baby antennae sprouting

from the base of each tree. It was then you

convinced me we should split into sixths

together & wait for the sun to raid us.   

Mme.

Do you know a thing called scream

was programmed into your head-

medicine accidentally. That is why you

swim so poorly. Little bits of seed

came out in the swimming pool that

were stuck behind the stripe in your

speedo. It starts with my hands. Circles

appear on the tops of my wrists, and I

freeze & drop the racket. This is called

an orgasm. They happen in sixes,

fives, fours, threes, twos, ones, &

zeros. I tried to megaphone it before

I disappeared, but my scream

was sliced off with an invisible knife.