Toothpaste Kids Sunburn

I tell you I will not make any more raids,
The elusive going-elsewhere motherboard

An electrical sound marking stretches
Afternoon is carving into the wood of us,

That’s our modern way of saline allegory—
To make gods of times of day. I won’t

Cooperate with this love that steals itself
Into a brand name, preferring to abandon

Like feathers or a rocket stage the moves
Traffic up till now couldn’t touch. That’s me,

That warm breath dying on the neck,
The only chain they couldn’t save in the fire

Everybody but the Buddha called
A day at the beach.