A dental stimulus to fly, to lose a tooth to head
afflicts a man who cannot keep a friend. He’s gay because
the cloths are made of silk.1 The doctor’s brother’s son was born
a year before his uncle’s birth, replaced by substitutes.2
So homosexuality’s a source of friends and art.
Herr F. forgets a shop’s address—lock boxes neighbor old
enemies, loves.3 And Dora’s dad cannot tell friends apart
from monsters or their wives.4 In archaeology, or math,
a man might learn to truly be alone, provided he
discovers lovers made of stone, or proofs, before they lose
their innocence.5 Fresh uses, or a redirected aim,
may produce friends as well as they do thoughts.6 It’s not enough
to turn it down; one has to want it first.7 The devil, if
a man embraced, will start the war, and let his father watch.8