Sawako Nakayasu

New Poems From the USA

for Chris Jones



The texture not of motherfucking diarrhea, but texture of the girls, women, all ages and
sizes, who have it, diarrhea like a motherfucker.

Line them up, all of them, after they have done their business or in between rounds,
holding hands and lined up all across the hemisphere, or holding one hand out, the other
hand clutching belly, and hold them, one at a time, warmly, tenderly, but firmly, these
women, such consistencies.