Hey, boy!

Hey, boy! Dissect joy.
It won’t matter.
Slice it ‘til it splatters
and consider all its organelles.

What makes it swell
and laugh, not care by half?
Determine whether
it has hemispheres that

conquer fears or
only latitudes that grab
at attitudes and
turn them on their ears.

Must it rhyme, or
merely mark the time?
Calculate exactly
how far into you it goes

or stays. Give it up
and stick your feet
into its Pegasussic stirrups
and take flight. Sweat

with it, and melt – and fall –
work it over in the ring
with all your might.
Get sucker-punched:

and drop again, all stupid.
Feel its Cupid arrow in
your ass, let it pass. See its
yellows turn to grays.

Forgive it for its inexplicabilities.
Go in on those days.
Meet it in parentheses.
Let it count the ways.


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