The Fold
Adam Deutsch
I fear the postal machine
will mangle your invitation,
wax seal and all. I'm too
hungry and tired to win
an argument with the workers.
I just want a hand stamp to press
addressed and licked paper.

But there's a mechanism
that just won't budge.
You pull an orange
from over a fence.
We mouth-breathe
in the thrift store,
never deeply.
I've convinced a few uniforms
that I'm an expert—set up
a terrifying expectation
that's beaten me more than once.

Really, my sleep is a vacant pantry,
but I keep myself up for days,
sampling herbs and condiments,
throwing anything into omelets.
Adam Deutsch lives in San Diego, teaches college composition and writing, and has work recently or forthcoming in Arsenic Lobster, Thrush, Spinning Jenny, and Mojave River Review. He is the publisher at Cooper Dillon Books, and has a chapbook from H_NGM_N Books called Carry On.

more by Adam Deutsch:
Other Couples
Vitamin D