It was revolution by music. The world would never be the same.
I don’t smoke, I called out, but no one heard me, and I sounded uncertain.
seeds
when nothing smells like you
i let dawn-colored fruit rot in the blue bowl
spray perfume thru the air and try to touch
myself the way you touched me
too bad we met/never met
I just remember the room dense with familiar sound, the melancholy howl of the perfectly in-tune saxophones, the electric brilliance of trumpets, a drummer with eight arms; my mother looking over at me, expectantly, as if to say, “This is what you wanted, right? This is making you happy?”
What will be will be. She was a good swimmer, and at least he was getting some exercise.
I leave behind a lot of empty wine bottles.
You said eat anything in the fridge and I did
right down to the last gherkin.
Unrelated: your turtle is dead.
You failed to mention it and I failed
to
...a person is like an ocean, or a country, or a forest...
Do you remember this one?
Exposing myself to the dumbest ideas and the most hateful weirdos online triggers a chemical reaction that gives me pleasure, or something like it. A hoarder of bad ideas, stacking them all up into wobbly piles that might someday topple and crush me.
The song on repeat, singing to Scout, for some reason stranded, standing on the patio table, dead-center, like a reanimated roast, and my father, drunk and shirtless, passed out in a pile of mulch in the yard.
July yawns. Flashes its grills...
At last our molars burst forth from the gum and we emerged from the rose-colored womb of our first grade classroom.
I hope you’re still unsatisfied. I hope you’re keeping your nose clean.
When it is morning morning I dress myself in nice human clothes. I am ready to leave the garden, but I do not leave the garden.
When your father and I found out you were a boy I remembered the time in my early twenties a co-worker at my first restaurant job invited me out for a drink with the crew after our shift. He drove me
