You Say it Like it's a Bad Thing

for the Rebeccas

it’s that song you traded in my head
since we knew what we were doing
long before my disinheritance dance
as the amaryllis bulb disintegrates
into those last rites of spring
declaims those sophisticated comedies bashed
by patient advocates as they make bike lanes
of four noble truths in the blue light
where i hide in the sports news
holding out for the human room
one moment in nineteen innings to reveal
wait time of those secretes of terrors we rather
not pay off like invoices in the daylight
so we become our own trotskyites