I want the smell of the rubber factory

by Krispy Kreme, of lakebrine,

of algae blooms, of alfalfa feed

for big fat cows in Qinghai province.

I want sunsets, tinted gold like egg yolks,

from chickens raised on daffodil seed.

I want nimbus clouds on Virginia Beach and

my guitar’s Cmaj7 chord, the water in

my Pothos stems. I want ice, in a glass of Tang,

my sister’s hands, sticky from mango ice cream,

my mom’s lungs humming Friday, I’m in Love.

I want to whistle through my buckteeth. I want

everyone to know I’ve lied, and I want them

to forgive me. I want more, so much more.

I want to say I wanted less.