Sha-zam

for the wisdom of Solomon

I am sixteen-year-old boy on skateboard /

torn-jeaned Sagittary with wheels for legs

Hear a crinkle of song from the ear buds

sharp sword of guitars / shield of booming toms

See arc of a cheekful / hear the splat

of that Nerd-stained spittle

I've gone all spoons on some girl

Spring tides of semen wash up against my insides

for the strength of Hercules

I am a skinny-armed Figaro /

a greasy-haired hedonist

Again with the weights—again with the medicine ball

Hair wet with sweat / a halo of steam

Time for hamburgers, time for hot dogs,

maraschinos, Cool Whip and mini marshmallows

Smell a grill's smoke and see it rise up

into green trees with sunlit leaves

for the stamina of Atlas

An apron of bees / your order on a pad

My neck is made of nectar

Time for hamburgers / time for French fries

In the kitchen I bitch

On break, smell my cigarette's smoke

Feel the warmth of a taxi's exhaust

Walking out would feel warmer than any sun

I want to be that bicycle's wheels