Don't post today post tomorrow
Don't be insensitive

Tomorrow post
Tomorrow boast

Just be sensitive when required


Distain for living autocorrects to “loving”
Oooohh moon you’ve moved a lot since I last looked
Crickets talk in conversations I’m left out of
And I hear a bit of laughter
Polish off a Woodbridge four pack

Spent time in a women’s rights knock off
Watched a man grope a woman in a women’s rights pop up
I think I hear sex
I think it’s in the woods
I think it's my neighbors
I don't live in the woods


Too many

Oh who cares
put the plates away
put the plates away
put the plates away

We console one another in our chips and our mysteries
dipping in and down on one another, nothing.

Nothing says more than teeth raking a strangers back
But honestly, but only, but really, I lied.
On the tile with the red light
I lied
Panting, huffing, at a mailbox,

and to you, in the night


"Nightcaps kick ass" he said,

or well, they once did
Now don't
Peppermint tea
Seeking chemistries
That of - lead fortunes
Elated thinking of molten metals
New years billowing into waters
"So solid", he said

The future walks amongst monkeys
another cube-shape masturbation
Dates and thyme and no interests
Here I begin saying, "I" again
And molding to a stranger, saying, "Man" again
Forgot of the lock with the nightcap and so much hair beneath my pillow
between my sheets.


Ruined by 12
Poking fun at fruit punch and gossiping sales
It's true, dogs will always have to pee.
Funny, yeah?


Distracted by the growing cold of my nose
crumb in hair, now accustomed to heat regulation
these are the chambers and we wait for them to fill
tranquil like a Zen fountain from
the babbling lemonade 


Funny how we think we're going to sit and look out the window and no one ever does.
Bet my neighbors are glad you left.
They didn't know you, so they don't know you did
but I bet they're glad.


I cried in my fried chicken and that's the saddest thing I've ever written.


What happened to subtleties?
soft spoken
a glorified real estate real state

thicc eyebrows and piled guac on high
death of authenticity
authentic everything

getting prophetic in a Chipotle


Swollen grey passing out
thinking of things, of all the things

Dreaming of being a sushi chef.
Think of when love comes down to eating a salad together.
That is a question.
How sexy will you find eating a salad, or a sandwich?

Thirties are the new twenties and I've let go of being harsh
drama, and incest flings through the air
like laundry, everything cycles and shrinks

We arrive on the walls of bars
where everything has been established as nothing
no steps
heavy handed and light hearted seems ideal


New stickiness of summer
cold pasta and coffee breaks
cat sitting binge
fueled by solid structures and your scent
dark days sweating and pulling at the mystery

that was a silly line.

Strangers causing trouble and when your hands slip from my back
it is what fucking should be
more and more markings
a surface strange to us both
somehow you're familiar to me but only before you leave


Am I alone in thinking plates should be thrown more often?
Scramble is too easy of a word and it's because I'm thinking of eggs
Eggs, thin air, and the way he laid potato chips out to judge their worth

I searched for a phantom laundry room and was indecisive about mushrooms
Mostly everything is laughable,
it's not dark, or vapid,
it's funny in the same way as potato chips are not worthless.

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