30 January 2017

Cold war

when all I want
is for you
to be proud of me
and I wait
for an answer:
the crackers
liquify
in your cold soup.



Coffee gone cold

In this age of second helpings
and second comings, I scour
the edges of a simple map
while you grunt disapproval.
I thought I had it in me,
but instead, I help you
straighten your tie
to reality. I know the map better
than you do, but my legs are numb
and my brain is aflame,
so I don't know what to do.
Your lips flap, your mouth
laps up your coffee,
leaving small crumbs to float.
You are as careless as you are proud.
I stare at one of the crumbs,
a little brown thing lost at sea,
disposable like my loved ones.
I don't know
what you mean or what you want,
but go fuck off anyway.



22 January 2017

Dear Richard

what is your favorite meal
so that I may
poison it?

what is your least-favorite race
so that I may invite
as many as I can

to celebrate?


17 January 2017

Predictable Motions

I want to marry
a girl or a boy
and be as normative
and dehydrated as fuck,
carrying multiple infants
on my back, a soldier muscling
through the terrible terrains
of america, all soft, grey trouble.

Because I am depressed
and familiar, a pretend Sexton
with candy cigarettes,
I will require eighteen hours
in bed, smoothing my greasy bangs
close to my brow
in romantic, predictable motions.

I am a flake and a terror, but I know how to float.

I will teach you
how to swim if you teach me
how to dream.



03 January 2017

No purchase necessary

I spread my love across
separate gift cards
and payday loans.

If only the tooth fairy
still visited, I would
take pliers to my own mouth.

There is no salve
at the dollar store,
and there are no pills
at my mother's house,
and yet I still snoop
through drawers,
examine dirty shelves,
pretend to tie shoes
that are already
perfectly tight,
pretend
to be strong
when the same
questions sting.

I spread my love across
unmade beds in unwelcome homes.

In a dream, I give
my teeth to you,
and you are whole again.