We travel

Backpacks like chastity belts

Using a compass like a condom

Running from our cerebellum’s small town sense of knowing our neighbour

 

We fuck

Like global warming or a rig’s pin prick possibility come true

Like a tape re-recorded over…three dozen times

Like the meet, love, part, and love again play is staged in front of amnesiacs

 

We tutor

Hand out pencils like light sabers or turtle shells

Math equations like straight jackets or film cigarette burns

Love children unconscious like solar flares or spider bites

 

Some of us travel…to fuck the tutors

Meet a silly sliver of skin with a sense of a global upbringing

Just nicking time bad enough to gamble on the uncertain

 

Some of us are the travelled to

Spin a smile like a famous speaking statue

Turn an honest word into the blurred burr of maybe,

Just maybe this was meant to be

 

And I tutor the fucked traveler,

Remind them that seagulls don’t have to die in the oily part of the ocean

That schooling is as much about the ins and the outtakes

That carnality is just a space between words