The plumber made a stop to pay for flowers
he didn’t know they were on their way
to getting married until they were
making plans for Hawaii and hearing
the word ‘honeymoon’. He felt a sharp
jab in his side as he realized
he’d been saddled and spurred.
Consent comes in particles
a little at a time building up
like a glacier out of snowflakes
it is not organic does not breathe
borders between parts like shards
leave history clear but fused
it is the stuff we walk upon.
A swath of inkling takes on weight
more on one slope than the other
an extension buds defining traits
a particular agreement swells
assuming a connection with a neighbor
a layering that was incipient
functions as switch under pressure.
The plumber writes a few checks
it need more than three or four
to get his hound-dog attention
sniffing up a pathway from A to B
he calls his uncle in Flint, Michigan
neurons light up like a pinball machine
he’s on his motorcycle headed east.