cross_sections Jus OCD It was the summer (1997) I don't remember the heat but I remember my mother smoking at the kitchen table waving us away like gnats. Stuck in a new town miles away from our home we saved almost 100 pennies and gave them to Grandma hoping she would take us. At night we helds hands over the darkness between beds she told me: "be strong" I could sleep with her if my dreams were bad. The Devil came in autumn she whispered hauntings after church: I'm coming for the kids I'm coming for the kids I'm coming for the kids. The Devil was a woman mum said, "she is here" said, "get in the car" said, "hail Mary, hail Mary" nobody else could see her. 250118 ... Jus Manufactured drugs were drugs [in 2007] minds too smooth to lace or consider living forever (perhaps in memoriam) Saturday [night] I slid 20 bucks to a guy I had vague memories of knowing he kissed me on the mouth as he pressed a baggie of pills into my palm *mollified* I licked the stamp on the back of my hand and crushed it onto V’s [free cover) [Inside] we split a Tanqueray and tonic washed down the amber- filled capsules and pushed through the crowdto the stage When it hit I em p\tied damned by music mov- ing through V’s body I professed my love to Bjork to platform boots to Canadian Classic cigarettes to the girl in the bathroom mirror to hair, fingertips, my pupil’s devoured light [2am ] we funneled onto the street stretched t h in bylaughter I lit a smoke took a long pull professed mylove again [somewhere] inthe rabble V said, “have you met E?” I swiveled took a stranger’s hand black pupils to mine hit like something that should have occurred to me sooner I said: “hi” through a clenched jaw she grinned, knowing I said: (after assessing: black curls, caramel skin, evil eye wrist tattoo, lips, long wool waistcoat, desert heat, almond eyes), “I like your style” and fell in lo ve 250118 ... Jus Frozen Lemonade I was defrosting in 2017 We lived in a 100-year-old building with arthritic floorboards and rads and enough natural light to nourish a jungle We cooked Sunday meals sat at a two-person table laughed as we sipped French-pressed coffee and fed the dog maple-soaked pancake pieces I was conceivably content in his warmth my body pinking up I yearned for matching towels and Brita filters but my muscles remembered running so I fled to Tamriel to the Canterbury Cathedral to Banff mountains to the other room when I returned he’d smile and I’d argue, “but, I’m a lemon” with a firm hand holding my ribs together he’d whisper, “then I’ll squeeze you” 250118 what's it to you? who go blather from