Last night I spoonfed a dying man oatmeal. I sponge bathed him even though he was already clean.
The city noise ordinance
keeps vibes low
Safety in a midnight swim.
teleport me to new terrain
there are brittle
cicada shells beneath
our feet, i’m in them,
i’m a shade, an exoskeleton
It’s been twenty four minutes since the last time I’d ever see you again.
I’ll never be a famous poet
forbidden closeness / pure proximity /
one hand on my shoulder / nothing
but gymnasium breeze on my
lace draped waist
In which I answer some questions.
Being sick all the time is some bullshit,
Lemme tell you.