In the mind of an outed alkie Whose in fingered quotes a best friend Who can't, in parentheses, take it anymore, What's a girl to do? You actually bite people, I mean this without irony, I've seen the marks of orthodontia On my own friends like So many pit bulls. I remember shared stories Laced with arsenic and too ripe cheese, Old lace, new knitting, And rediscovered grenadinisms. (from the pomegranate like I was trying to say). You can tell me I make up words, But if I made them up And you know What I'm talking about, Aren't those Just old words Coming back from the crypt that we built together out of dry leaves and sand? I said graffitied; Your words were all in French or Portuguese When you were feeling international. We may have altered languages, But the tongues that let us have these things Are bred in us Like a cancer in the groin Or a sweet pea seed I thought was a bluish morning glory.