I have this way of saying “bus” so that it rhymes with “moose”
when I want to be festive As in Gtg or I’m gonna miss my boose
I claw for reasons to live lol and find them Junk is anti-stasis
Ashes to atoms In the sense that Junk begs for a new use
Tangy harpsichord Crunching into a crisp pink lady The sherbet
swirls on these apples is maybe the most gorgeous color in
nature He wants to dip again and I want to go home, drink an
indica chamomile n slack like a boss It’s sad, not havin a 20’s
stamina but once I learned you can make someone cum three
times a night and he can still dump u I was like Welp Trapped
there, I don’t want to eat apples from the tree in the yard in the
neighborhood of that feeling anymore I like mood/lighting
and draw a bath in my brain The bubbles spread across my
knees like relief Do you hear cicadas? Crinkle cuts & queso
with bacon & jalapeño The movie starts n then a bump in the
internet connection We are now boarding rows 15 and higher
Best thing abt leaving town is the poem suddenly comes
differently—as if it needs a kind of obscurity in order to really
be seen Hindsight, for example Sight becomes a craft of memory
Memory—the fantasy that actually happened I believe in butter-
scotch candies and chocolate covered gummy bears from the
pic n mix at the Virgin Atlantic terminal in San Francisco Int’l
Sun smooched n sparkling famous band afternoon Unfurling
atop the grass Kalamata olive pot jolly ranchers n falafel balls
The sky in its gown of nostalgia For a minute we were in the
donut I mean moment Confessed a mutual love of scratching
the paint off things Melty like cheese like whipped cream Cake
batter double fried disco lights Bobbing like those inflatable
tube dudes Continually recycling excitement Feedback Fizzy
All I’ve ever wanted was to feel the heat with somebody But
mostly affairs r sort of short/intense like gas Worst thing abt
this famous artist cokehead cheating on his girlfriend w/me is
the shameful thrall Pitching a tent in this terrain Let’s talk abt
how Uranus tilted Abt how glass is neither solid nor liquid It’s
always moving The lake in the winter when the ppl traverse
the surface in spikey crampons Which is not a portmanteau So
obsessed with warm in the winter Warmth is the anomaly
Something that requires generation Engines in the stars In the
cores Seeking heat Most of the universe burns cold Not havin
a bf in so long I forgot how something as mundane as holding
hands makes a target of us You reach yr arm out to rest on my
shoulders and I pull away I’m not afraid of intimacy I’m scared
of assault I want 2 love in spite of the violence Black cat 9 lives
short days long nights livin on the edge not afraid to die Iraq
facing the possibility of total economic collapse on the back of
war and falling oil prices vs Australia’s avocado shortage One
food truck in Sydney has resorted to using frozen stuffs Gasp!
Café calamities It’s not even theatre Sympathies swell along
familiar lines Focus instead on dry skin and yr steadily expan-
ding waistline When I left yr house for the last time you said
“aw, now I’m sad” Grief is another way of making it all about
you How costume is yr grief? How girthy? How banshee?
Everyone wants to be loud and public and right Whose grief
can piss the farthest Is the poem distinct, or another kind of
feed I’m starving Hope for yr Junk Reinvention Innovation
Buttercream Words compound meaning all the time BEER ME
yells a man at the bar n suddenly to beer—converted to verb
Make a beer of me Like junk passing to garbage passing to ashes
passing to atoms Extinction wipes words from Earth The only
way to fight ISIS is to wipe them from the face of the Earth But
I’m from a group that others have tried to wipe from the face
of the Earth Had reasons like yours—savages, blood-thirsty,
inhuman—War doesn’t work Anything simple is a ruse Life
somehow earns its complications Never just the night in question
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Image adapted from Krista / Flickr.
