HOW THE DOG PAYS RENT


I touch him
like a paper boat,
crushed tongue,

our uglier habits
and several jobs
a conical lick

the bathroom is
by its foot,
whatever

I make
room 591 is
business

we’d all get arrested
in a Star Wars tie,
obscenely

my task
then I’ll get
the bills

easily, I call out
a mud slick
to let open
the buttons
in the first room
go…
Andromeda

I’m keeping
this week
in my hair,

where it gets good
the entire register
has puddled

eye contact with
booked
men, blood

for this
mouths around
scenting the carpet

to shriek
four hundred dollars
look like drawings

call home
a fine genomic imprint
the curtain
of
whose walls
in the second room–
what links

a calendar
separated teeth,
the urge to die

hanging
of his voice,
on my stomach

one in the lobby
full of older
affiliates

this man
the hotel room
bug-like

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”
what I know is
my legs split

my surface is
telling me
undo
its dress




________________________________________

Amy Mattox's poems have appeared through BOAAT Journal and Stethoscope Press, among others. She is originally from Texas, and owes every ounce of herself to bayous and rattlesnakes. Her artwork was most recently exhibited in nowHERE x OROBOROUS, and can be seen at http://carrior.portfoliobox.io.