I pull them apart like a harried cashier, rub the magenta-lined ones on my face, ink my cheeks with toxic blush.

My boy on the boulevard bubbling.
Triple wick rip tide in my mind.

sipping from a can of lukewarm non-alcoholic PBR in between the routine 

He said everyone is going to die except us
 

Well, it’s happened
there is a baby
I just found out 
and he is precious

there is a baby now
and the father is handsome
he has a Sherpa-like
quality that gives me calm

I am comforted:
he

To shut down and cool off like my laptop
All I need is wind and weed

and Tahiti exists even if
I will never see it

The only thing grows faster than corn here is despair.

i am on the bus
i think

I was six years old.
He was a German Shepherd named Andy.

crushes and snorts several thousand milligrams of sildenafil on a nsfw livestream and masturbates until his heart explodes

the sexiest quality in a partner was the ability to space out

where Mother had hung on the wall
our Hogarth prints and crucifix

I had started doing aerobics and running in place in our townhouse living room when Chad was at the golf shop. I’d found a recipe for whole wheat banana bread and I made a loaf every Sunday and every

after Charles Bukowski

Every orgasm I am not having is a poem in process.

The body rotates its symbols / like a stereoscope

I’m flinging sparks at a desk 
in the cold cell of civilization’s midnight 
 

I'm sick...

I am torn with longing for many unnameable things.

there was nothing special in the Library of Alexandria

It does not make any noise but it works.

I fucked his heart, ruined the fitted sheets,
flamingos left erect in a pool of afternoons

other byproducts are produced
sticky sweat, the stink of loneliness

But there's no blood
It's all gone, I'm dry