Love keeps things
lubricated. Fingers,
lips, knees, even,
distribute the grease.
All moving parts
require regular
exchanges of fluid.
Try to start
an engine without
oil on the pistons.
Count how many
strokes before
everything seizes up.
- This poem is a pastiche of Kay Ryan's Polish and Balm.
- This poem was first published in Sinew: 10 Years of Poetry in the Brew, 2011–2021.