Gather around the table and destroy all the evidence.
Climb atop the lightpost and proclaim you bring the light.
I wear personas, exchange myself––like a terrible present or volatile stock.
This behavior seems reasonable.
The virtuous are likely rewarded with bouquets or cheap holiday candy.
To be fair, the weather is bad in my body.
My body lies over the ocean but the body is not me.
Is that petroleum or rainbows on the water?
Take me to your seabed. I like it dangerous, filthy, non-renewable.
With the toss of a match, my reflection will be luminous.
Part-evidence, part-light.
Drew Krewer is author of the chapbook Ars Warholica (Spork Press). His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Troubling the Line: Trans and Genderqueer Poetry and Poetics, DIAGRAM, Fairy Tale Review, and Dream Pop, among other publications. He holds an M.F.A. in poetry from the University of Arizona and lives in the desert.
Image: “Doug walks away, Grand Street, Albany, NY” by Daniel Nester
Pine Hills Review 