Two Poems

Stakeout the Stakeout


unmarked cop car

parks outside our apartment


complete w/ aviatored pigs

& code words for the county king


and suddenly we’re

staking out the stakeout—


or if they’re only chicken

pranksters, faking out the fakeout—


un-cupboarding binoculars

holstering homemade mace


(just in case) they resort

to full-metal storming the place


akin to looking in a two-

way mirror, we abhor the beasts


we are becoming

a special-ops staring contest


where each squad picks

a winner not by citing speed but stalling


aiming long-haul w/o breathing

undercover, underwater even


the enemy begins to

leak his weakness, needing


caffeine     tobacco

hoagie           doughnut


but by that time

we’ve already replaced our heady gaze


w/ braced stuffed animals

& balancing broom handles


b/c the only way to

shake a stakeout is to


take the long-awaited

look-away & lose the


lay-low                                     lair

torch the place & watch it burn


                                                            oops did i do that?


                  fuck             yes           i        did


it’s how you redecorate      the dead


    their preferred palate:


white flame


nest-bounded by burn-baby-burned blues    barbequing you


 to glow


shades of sun     fading to          grayscale cinders


the satisfaction’s           in        the     spectacle


whether you’re  delinquent relinquishing

      the trauma site of history      (hissing)


or        pure covering up    the all-too-common crimes


you or your lovers committed


dragging (conveniently located) gas


     or opening its passage to diffuse


—the world so full   of flammables—


each sketch the interior    inevitably fiery


      completed    with a final gesture


 the flick of a match


 or lighter lowered





to an infrastructure of ash


flames reflect off your eyes




running away




faking yr own death       all       require

      a proper torch      to see


  the escape enabling us

    to get   away        with


DYLAN KRIEGER and VINCENT CELLUCCI are partners in crime and poetry in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, where they each earned an MFA in creative writing from LSU. Dylan has published work in Quarterly West, Deluge, Juked, So and So, Small Po[r]tions, Smoking Glue Gun, TENDE RLOIN, and Psychopomp. Titles from Vincent include An Easy Place/To Die, Fuck Poems, come back river, and _A Ship on the Line.