By this time the silk fish will have torn up

in the gurgling embers. You’ll be sticky-throating
your food by then. No more baked cod or
boiled shellfish. You’ll collapse one afternoon

and you’ll be carried off by Gila monsters.
The monsters will nestle you into the shape of a
damaged cloud. Smogging toward the laundromat,

you’ll bring with you the Gila monsters and many
pollutants from the earth. One of the Gila monsters
will beg you to reconsider your trip to the laundromat.
The smog is too thick for your ears. Once inside
the public washing machine the Gila monsters will shift
and spin around your cirrostratus. Most of the lizard beads
will peel away from their lizard bodies. Your smog will
absorb every prickling bump—every last lizard bead.
Each of the monsters will dissolve into your bitter shape.
Mouths chewing up the last rain droplets. Your cloud
bones will burst along with your cold inner veins.
You’ll precipitate and then you’ll dry.