is a vague half-continent, a consonant soup, abrupt with the rot wedge of potato, finger, vowel. Soot, thick rivers, prod of thick tongues. I have had these tongues inside of me. I know the names of your tanks. You fill thin men’s bones with ink. They have committed your alphabets, slept with your housekeepers who are severe and thorough. Their penises are like the wet noses of small dogs. Leave them the energy to make love; keep them from drinking.