Things Impossible to Swallow • poems by Pamela Garvey • number 24 in the 2River Chapbook Series2River

Cocaine

hummingbird pulse
feeder taps its morse code into
the awning        window blazing
with spikes of sunrise    pupils
like wasp eyes   winged things
under the skin   needle cuts
the same niche in the record
over and over    sweat spots
shirt, pants, the bed
trembles      a few drinks to torch
the ice of consequence