Damon Hubbs

Rapture

O Hannah 
you spell your name with two of everything. 
It’s the summer of the comet. 
I want to vibrate like an angel 
and you’re reading a book 
that isn’t a gift 
for anyone over thirty.  
Everything tends towards a conclusion that doesn’t occur. 
I have no defense for poesy. 
Does anyone know how to get to the Bop House? 
The whole shit is breaking down 
and my refrigerator isn’t ready for riot season.
John Maus has a new single called I Hate Antichrist. 
What do we talk about when we talk about luxury? 
You’re reading A Poem for Vipers when lifeguards
pull a dead swimmer 
from the water off Hampton Beach. 
The weather is beautiful.
I eat aspirin for dinner and drink Rolling Rock.
Karen Reed is framed like a Nantucket sunset. 
O Hannah 
we lost two of everything. 
On the rooftop 
of an apartment on Ashworth Ave 
we watch a cumshot 
dance on the tip 
of a 
telescope.