of notes that i cannot hear when i press my face to the granite countertop
there is a pain in my lower back
if i can’t hear it at least
she is cool on my face
a weird little thing
keeps the brains all together
or at least it groups those instruments
i think the notes go abcdefghz
there was something i was supposed to do
what is your name, young man?
who is you?
i am can do
of which, did you get that checked out yet?
looks kind of… infectious
there’s a speck of dust on my glasses and the xylophone won’t shut up
i’m terribly sorry but we’re out of all our fucks.
please take a number.
Hello, Mr. President?
i am a girl boy girl boy birl goy
it’s a little weird to talk
let’s just sit and pick flowers
if i blink with my left eye
you are there
with my right you sink into the grass
or it rises into you
i’m sorry, that was unpleasant.
it was a little complacent in there
and i wasn’t sure this was the place to be
but the eagle on the seal seemed reassuring
with it paternal wingspan and
i felt i could trust its steady gaze
and was soothed like a rabbit.
eleven hangs between us,
heavy and taut
a wet jacket has given up on my shoulder
we used to have twelve
but you stared too long at the sunset
and a bird got a gleam in its soul
i think we will have enough for soup when
we get home
a shard of plastic glisters in the sun
it is hot inside this car and i’m no longer a baby
the upholstery swelters in waves
in the distance, a gas station sign rises on stilts
the straight lines repeat over and over
but i see the staccato’s in pairs
the wheat heads swayed in a haze
a summer storm’s afterthought was sweeping through the area
a farmer sighed into the wind
the eddies were delirious, drunk on hot air
and the shouts of men going to war.
a little faster
and i think the plane of the page
and the palm of you face will
look in the same direction of a great white.
i’m sure there is some mechanism
but on days like this
i am days like this
over and over