Alice Can Derail You in 3/5ths of a Second

by Kyle Hemmings

 She connects to you
via snarling vines
& worm-woven tunnels.
Emails are only a distorted
perspective, the bastard
child of haunted longhand.

She drops Roman numerals
in your soup. They float
to the top, form the date
of your last accident
where intersections merged.
She sells your fake potency pills
to the stoners
dealing in blanched alleys.
Lies under you,
a travesty of mythic
women in shakedown
pose. Bewitched breach
of hard contract. Blood turning
 to Kohl. 

By morning,
your semen stains
will fade in acid sunlight.
She nailed your hands
to tracks of abandoned thigh.
Rise & shine brightly, Mr. Porter.
You're just one
of a thousand
of her best train wrecks.