here is the sky in stop motion, flickering, a still shot in monochrome
Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time
my love is a glass shard, a knife made of madness and moonlight, and there are already way too many fragments in this house
It is the 70s. 1970s? 2570s? Who knows? Audre and I have a penthouse in New York.
I am still waiting for the lion
Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.
my friends’ fathers are dropping I mean dying like flies
I slumped in front of a massive desk, a passive patient corroded with failure and dread.
Lights on the dashboard spell out “You still can’t kiss me”
Just starlight and some small scribbling across vinyl.
four-thirty a.m.
Mostly he ate what was put on his plate snuck coffee grounds or dirt for a snack Once a zipper Unzipped
Okay, picture this: We’re in an elevator. The elevator shuts down. It doesn’t matter where we’re going, only that we’re alone.
it’s touch-and-go with me and weddings
my father holds his favorite drink
We found in his suitcase T-shirts, his siddur, gifts he bought for his grandchildren…
You said it was okay to blame what goes wrong on the planet
You let the yellow glow from eye sockets. The building up the street is burning faster and faster.
I have an axe with hearts gashed
this is what I want you to to see: leaves falling because it is too late for them not to