Thursday, March 19, 2020

past life problems

if right now is a mountain
and also a hole
the sun helps
some color theory

the layers of light since
the winters of teendom
always snagged there
on her fresh, pissed face

surprised by my lack of capacity
to mold, stretch, find the richness
here beside the window

there was a time when I was interested in packaging
and now I wanna vomit up everything I've ever seen

splitting open
the sweet, over ripe truth that
my mind was once a blank piece of paper
and now

still finding the soft B sides
my door shut

the marble desk
my grandma

now I'm relatively old by the window
a vacant strip of dirt
the leaky hose
(of desire)
sputtering, scrolling
devoted to the buzz

recalling the sorrow that takes over
on xmas, for instance
the long and early
digestif of a shut down

there was a time when all I ever wanted
was to be here