Some Chill

by Larry Sawyer

Age–old desire for the
perfect equation then

a dollop
of sour cream

white as the
page, and
each letter
of every word
a prime
number bolero

of oomph.

Some leopard–print fire
that flamenco onion!

Add it up on a
blackboard,

my unsuspecting tongue!

O, algabraic habañero
geometric jalapeño!

A cross–stitched cursive caliente like

a doctorate printed on my DNA now proclaims me
professor of goddamn.