maybe Rome grew tired
	I want you to think about being a city & then I want you to
	think about being a barbarian hoard that wants to take that city
	there aren't enough firewalls between my brain & what I read
	so many watch the news fear the terrorists & their attacks & if
	they're here already I figure Maslow would say our cognitive
	[dissonance/discomfort] small potatoes to those clinging to the
	lowest rung & anyway maybe Rome grew tired of warring too
	maybe we deserve what's coming next maybe I just wrote that
	hoping the NSA would notice maybe I think that the likeliest
	scenario to increase readership hashtag-thanks-metadata-collection
	that sounds mechanical & unhappy my gears are so fucked up
	I should probably register to vote the mercies of public transit
	are inconsistent at best I'm unclear as to the stakes but I know
	which side I want to be on b/c compromise the bastard invention
	of poor planning & I'll be back up any time now cash out for more
	than I bought in never look back I thought we were talking politics
	you say but we both know the house always wins I might agree but
	I can't in good conscience watch a sixteenth season of Big Brother
	the Internet is our finger on the trigger of a bullhorn but we speak
	mostly clickbait they will put a bullet in Edward Snowden when
	no one is looking & we will forget the next day when 4chan
	releases new hacked naked celeb photos b/c who doesn't dream
	of being on set the extra in a plastic Centurion uniform sexting w/
	the lead between takes today I am tired of staring at a screen for
	a living I bought this coyote pelt on eBay from a guy in MT for $9
	it was a deal I think he advertised w/ a pic of his wife in a US flag
	bikini the fur draped between her breasts & holding the shotgun
	he used I don't know what the reason for this is & you can laugh
	or whatever but when I bury it I'm hoping to end our civilization 
friday night existential crisis
	don't want to go watch the new McDonagh flick
	Calvary at the Mayan or read the anthology of
	surveillance poetics I sent off for the news provides
	enough anxiety or eat the x-tra firm grilled teriyaki tofu
	w/ soba noodles she & I cooked b/c nothing I like
	is good for me & the chemical bath in my brain is still
	[half-life undiminished/toxic] so when I walk down
	10th ave to the park on a sunny day & the lightning storm
	in the back of my skull (they say LSD collects
	in the spinal column) don't want to write a poem
	even though I told her we would together &
	this quiet/[ ]/processing could be better w/
	the right music I suppose but I listen to the same albums
	on repeat even when I want something different I think
	Jack White is talking about himself when he says he drinks
	gasoline I [understand/want] [burning/light/blindness] too
	I don't want to smoke or not smoke it reminds me
	of the sex I should be having b/c ephemeral youth
	& hashtag-something-clever but let's be honest
	my teeth are rotting I looked in the mirror today I said 
	this morning there is more gray in my beard than yesterday 
	though my tolerance for linear time seems to be increasing
	don't want to meet my coworkers at William's Tavern for
	cheap well shots of whiskey & wonder what my parents think
	about the [relevance/or not] of poetry or whether anyone will
	read me—ha! how narcissistic—on a cellular level
	she & I are not the same people we were when we met
	& when I told my father I was moving in w/ her
	he said you put the cart in front of the horse again
	but I don't want the horse it's a metaphor for
	marriage & who's driving the cart? the people
	I grew up with are making children & have nothing
	but photos & photos & photos I was lying earlier
	about my tolerance for linear time b/c I don't want
	all the minutes scrolling a newsfeed seeking—this is
	a kind of despair the [changing/gaining] speed (please someone
	remind me if it takes more than 140 characters will anyone
	read it?) & is it not vanity creating a 'private' sphere
	for others to consume? don't want the solitude
	or the putting-myself-out-there but I wonder if 
	this writing is 'work' & doesn't seem as meaningless
	she says you don't realize what you're asking—I agree
	b/c all the universe might be extinct light anyway
	but I [understand/want] her silhouette against mine
	in the [maybe/maybe not] of stars b/c this might be
	enough I don't know
