What y’all left behind

It’s difficult not to think about on a rainy afternoon in January when you live in a one bedroom apartment by yourself in a suburb of Sacramento believe it or not, it really is so hard not to look back on the shit I kept and the shit I’ve thrown away see I’ve thrown away…

Unrelated

The details of your face and smell are finally, fading and they say that expressing anger is always the best thing for you and maybe I’m a bullet dodger but the sound of your voice is becoming all of the voices of the past even though they say that many animals can form friendships with…

My tits

I know that as soon as you see them up close, covered or not, your mind decides if you like them, and therefore, me. You determine if they are too big to befriend or too long to be seen with in public… You decide in a split second how hard it would be to brush…

Rara Avis

It’s the Metallica, isn’t it? It’s the Metallica and comic book collections in mint condition or the Darth Vader posters and Wonder Woman Tennis shoes, right? Aye, I know it must be the Animal from the Muppets tee-shirts and the old school record player with Bee Gees and Coldplay records on deck and the vast…

Dreadnought Fail

You act like you don’t love me but I am the only human thing about you. Howl. Screech. Wail. You pretend that you love me because I am a reflection of your face. Grimace. Wince. Stare. You contact me because there isn’t anyone sentient nearby aware. Think. Brood. Lie. But he But he But he…

Just stuff people do and death

Breathe. Blink a lot. yawn and stretch. Slobber. Cry to get your way. Crawl and knock over things in your way. Laugh and fart and sleep and eat. Dream and sometimes wet the bed. Lie. And lie some more. And keep lying. Wear stupid fashions to look cool in front of stupid kids. Read and…

Ace in The Hole

Fascinated by my own reflection No idea who is guilty or insane Sick to the stomach by misconception No concept of using my brain Sexual proclivities an abomination No desire to take a midnight train Nothing left but piles of frustration No arteries open but the main Everything hurts and its all too big Everything on…

Christa McAuliffe

I was ten but I remember. We were in art class during the launch. Everyone. breathless. Our teacher, Miss Young was her name and she was, Miss Young was like, “This is amazing kids, you’re painting beautiful pictures right now and getting to watch history in Art Class!” We watched. Then we gasped. Then we blinked really fast,…