Portrait of the Alcoholic Floating in Space with Severed Umbilicus

in Fort Wayne I drank the seniors Old Milwaukee Old Crow         in Indianapolis I stopped         now I regret every drink I never took        all around          coffee grounds and eggshells      this sweating         a mouthful of  lime        as a boy I stole a mint green bra from a laundromat       I took it home to try on while my parents slept       filled its cups with the smallest turnips in our pantry       the underwire grew into me like a strangler fig       my blood roiled then as now       back on earth frogspit is dripping down wild aloe spikes       salmon are bullying their way upstream       there is a pond I leapt into once with a lonely blonde boy       when we scampered out one of us was in love      I could not be held responsible for desire       he could not be held at all     I wonder where he is now       if he looked up he might see me      a sparkling     I always hoped that when I died I would know why        my brother will be so sad      he will tell his daughter I was better than I was     he will leave out my crueldrunk nights       the wet mattresses      my driving alone into cornfields unsure whether I’d drive out       I wish he were here now        he could be here      this cave is big enough for everyone        look at all the diamonds