15th Street Poem

My butter is jelly imagine
a gentle bliss lingering all morning
it could be the espresso on 15th Street
making my hands sweat I'm not really meat
I'm spirit and sweets and spastic dancing
I loom not-so-mysteriously
I'm patient and inspired
my body is shaking in the warmth
under the sun I am lemon zest
lips contoured around what you mean
when you say better, which I am
you see I'm all rubbery and firm
moist where it counts to be among
the living lapping milk from the palm of my hand
making the math of morning easy
to figure out where things are again.