THE UNAVOIDABLE

THE UNAVOIDABLE
by Roy Frisvold
Sensation,
mid-chew of the peppery fodder:
This visit, this biannual travesty of nostalgia aches
under–under?–aches involving scalp–
non-localized, à la the conversation.
Chew on. Scalp taken, regifted;
the unavoidable is come, is going,
though hardly quickly enough
through these fucking roguish ellipses…
Comes our check, my signature, twin exits,
separation: one’s bulk may turn,
face-muscles free now
–somewhat–shaved and toweled
by the night’s wind.
No attending required to other’s
opposite steps.
The soul
jumps from its subway car in the obsolete
dispensation.
There must have been,
must be something
at home.