Barbenheimer
Sean Kilpatrick
gen x girls grew too cool to touch and millennials gayed the world the rest of the way limp in their piteous attempts to save it.
He looks at me a little like how the alley cats look at the mice behind the house, but I don’t mind.
I try to imagine the various people the specks of bubble gum had belonged to. Try to give them faces and purposes.
gen x girls grew too cool to touch and millennials gayed the world the rest of the way limp in their piteous attempts to save it.
The hangover was ruining the romance. Last night I woke up a friend and made her drink wine—Chateau 2016. I had to deal with my nerves somehow.
What’s your name? Like an oak
I want to carve a heart
into our washing machine.
as all my lovers
fly out of my chest
We started as open, NOT poly. This was a very important distinction to us, despite not having a working definition of either types of relationships. It was, we both agreed, substantially less cringe
Definitely one poet holdover is just being a magpie for weird
Mysterious beauty spot the farra on cheek.
By March of 2016, my cousin Josh and I were practically flat broke. We’d been having an incestuous and adulterous affair, one that elevated his title to “cuzband” (he hated that term). Four years
There was a week when my grandma was gone, I had the whole place to myself, was drinking the regular Coca Cola classic and the half sized baby Coca Cola and brought the Abercrombie pictures out in the open on the second floor. I meditated.
Sometimes I think I won’t understand what it is that I’ve lost until I write a book about it.
The great neon calamity of his own life exhausts him.
I’m interested in these conversations more than anything else, moments in which we care for and about each other in a world that says nothing’s more important than self-care after a productive day at work, where we’re constantly pit against each other, forced to compete with our peers to earn and preserve the right to exist.
She wanders a Sisyphean circuit around Berlin: to meetings with immigration lawyers, uninspiring parties, lame poetry readings.
The currency of self-loathing is everything you’ve ever said.
One night I was so drunk, I couldn’t feel my face.
her lips run right off her head
she wets the bed in stereo
Did you know emus have two sets of eyelids? One for blinking, one for dust.
Everything’s fuzzing in every direction, the flowers and the water and the stars, and the pizza is impossibly good.