[you would make…]


you would make an ugly flowerpot and i am nothing
but burnished hope and unintelligible transmissions
through swimming pool water. there is no raincheck
for desire. i am severing the bungee of devotion, but
all i’ve got is the edge of a coin handled by too many
people. the dirt under our fingernails is proof we tried
to dig ourselves out, but i choked on peet and gave up.
so i settled for pulling out my molars because i was tired
of the daily grind. i am as bold as sumatra this morning
and we are driving into the dawn so you can fly into the
sunset. i bless you with egg shell and coffee grounds.
i will not see you for two weeks. (maybe longer.)

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