Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Homemade Polka


felt depression
in the shape and weight
of a knife
as if the moment of nonsleep
was the knife
and therefore
everything was gone


how does time move
in your world?

how long do you feel
like you've known me?

one soft ear out the dark
it's the nighttime window
I've told you about before

the first was an octagon
staring back at me


seem a bit weak
mostly hard brown
shells like paper
nuts, unless
I missed something
while reacquainting
with that gray strain
of sad

and it's been so long
since I met that edge
but it's all of me too


Montclair at dusk
I remember
the faceless
the unending wet
jacket on the lawn

I drive by now
and I always do
with nothing
to pull out but
time, this dark
blue-green hole
in the empty seat


don't look at my ass don't
look at my ass
my fault it's
my fault
for wearing this

purple petals
twisted with pink


evolution nightmare
everyone has curved hand bones for
phone holders

come to
in the shape of a knife

see roadkill
a squirrel duh but
a blond dog in a plastic bag

gray today and it's all of me