On the back of his badge, he had a barcode with which he could change almost anything.

I said, this, this. Call it what it is.

I was a minor saint of empty time.

Strange men bought me piss poor

beer, spirit forward and blood red

I suspect that I’m a little bit in love with you
 

but that would be ridiculous because I don’t know

if your wrists sit snugly in my hip dips. Ridiculous

because I don’t know whether you’ll

she keeps her secrets as easily as she takes off her white
gloves

we were evicted in the
fall my mother’s sought
sobriety

To hold your love aloft. What a victory.

“Can beauty save us?”
“It can,” as I kiss her open mouth.

I was on my way to guitar lessons, then Pure Math tutoring.

You can see the universe in anyone's eyes

i am the machine that desires
and only in such desire
can i exist

Time makes pills of us all

trying to recall

the newness of our sexual joy

Oh. No. I prefer fat men and fingernail clippers.

i grew tired of bukowski's penis / even deer looked plastic 

Us—playing God, getting got.

But even that line is taken from a movie
because I don’t have the audacity
to reach inside and find something new

'Let's all go down to the river' I said...

I can’t read in Farsi but I taught him how to say kiss, my flower, small, my heart and now the florists know

Fought so hard to be this self— this man in front of you. I’m free to wear pink and piss in the urinal.

Because I am toxic and codependent

Because I am not good for Bruce.

And never, ever write a poem

The best thing for the future of a word like consent is to just stop talking about all of it.

october bumble date

less human. less here.
my mother lost my face and now i’m
everywhere. smeared in public. pulp
in private. self-immolation summer on demand.
i’ll love you all again
at the

Video surveillance is for your safety 

I lost my thought and now I can't do anything but listen 

Writing is only anything if you can sublimate or depreciate the original thing into a