Dysfunction Needs Lubrication

We can’t even fit together,

                                           jig or saw,

Now that together dulls,

                                       none more to-get-her

Tries—while closeness puzzles, (de)positing

Consolations only, familiar-apartness-pain.

We could douse ourselves in motor oil,

                                                               when

Only slippery we can sough how we

Can’t-even-admit, “bang” like “pistons” or

Euphemisms rattling trite as platitudes

And pennies flupping in Solo cups.

What is this inexorable need to yoke,

Daisy chain our days, and thread

Memories stale as popcorn blinking light

On Christmas trees?