Leap Year

The notion of someone eating is lachrymose in me, induces tears,
On this day, intercalary, compensative of costive solar years;
Educes the contraband, empathy, that Wilde was too coy to declare,
Euphemistically calling it "genius"; the same milestones-aware
That Morrissey possesses, though it was not concealed down his rear cleavage,
Where the TSA agent imposed his finger. Each poet must manage
Their own way to empathy – mine is through the notion of someone eating.
Nutation of the axis pangs, my sense of it mounts; I hear scurrying,
See shadows of ectomorphs fleeing, hear snarling parley in the graveyard,
Sense nutation of the axis, note, at Yarl's Wood, the sub-threshold saccade
Of a woman's eyes as she threatens to throw herself from the banister.
I am the wretched migrant this leap year, the lumpenproletarier
That so many liberals, whilst refuting that I would drive wages down,
Uphold by precept, endear by poiesis, allow by praxis to drown
Or be detained at Yarl's Wood (the guards joke of headbutting the women there,
Of walking into the rooms unannounced, because they are "breast men"), to where
I evanesce by my empathy to be one of the Adventitious.