i surmise failure to
thrive

forms a fist like
the glove
fits

loner likely
to be
hit

by self-inflict
stick,

a longing to shed
dad skin
and

seek shiny slit
to slip
in.

dismissed as threat
to public,

swatting bat wings
at pass-out
spots,

pitching buttered
popcorn
at

parade of lawmen
mowing-

overperforming-
hand in
coat

plucking tightrope
to hear it
snap

zap crackle pop
of coke-can
candle..

wax sucked from
the tap.