A Poem from Quinn White’s Chapbook, Moustache

I won and my trophy was permission to dance
without fear. Dance in the basement where
everyone wins at pool and ping pong. Everybody
wants to kiss. Too drunk doesn’t exist. Jesus never
meant temperance. We all die after each other.
Nobody misses anybody. Every every is a me, 
but no-one minds. Because is a seashell, 
a stranger’s poem on saving whales. 
In whale salvation cases, every every is a whale, 
every whale is a motorist. In the basement, 
prayers are nil because eyes lift easy to snap
beyond the plaster. Every shoe is a bird. 
Every body, a chandelier. 
Poems are waking to a body I forgot. 

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