Modern Conveniences 2012 - 2014

There were moments when I forgot about the dog
Whining and shivering, like a toddler in its playpen
Her instinctual nature, A visceral outward cry

I can recall the green leaves of summer
The rowers on the canal and the sun in your eyes
Squinting and blearing

I want to remember you during the first months
Crucial and unassuming
Lying stagnant under miles of fabric
Blanketing in the coarse of winter

There is a casket I am burying myself deep inside of
There is a dungeon that shines blue in the night time
I am a ghost in the corner of your bedroom
I am a cum stained tee-shirt on the hardwood floor

Fortune

Susan cries because she is sad. She cries because she is hopeless. She moves her tongue from side to side against the roof of her mouth, feeling the sandpapery grain of her dry palate thinking she will never succumb to anything. Michael hopes that one day he will become an editor at Dreamworks.

Don't Count On Me

Because some years it seemed
like they loved each other
and some years I don't remember them
speaking to one another
But as time passed they learned to pretend

I, myself, pine for solitude
a momentary huddle
a fortress of solemnity

A modest desire for abandonment

These are the dreams made of gravel and splintered glass
The nostalgia of cigar smoke through the closed screen door
Remembering what my stepfather told me when I was twelve
Drinking dog's milk and peeing in the shower
standing up