life

bad feelings club

here they come gnawing

relentless

impervious to threats and kicks to the throat

under stale skies

clouds (finally)

but even they’re dried up

what a mess.

less than zero is?

who fucking knows or cares

smells like maple syrup and shawarma on this side of town

don’t mind.

kind of like it.

miss home though.

amaranth by the pound

or was it teff?

can’t recall

wonder if you’re taking care of the skyline like I asked

probably not

got things of your own I’m sure

saw a picture of some trees you took from below

wasn’t that great of a shot but

maybe you were happy when you took it?

not me though

not even

the power of my own thighs can cheer me tonight

maybe if I pedal hard enough

I will take flight

or

option two (just as good)

my tire will clip a rock and I’ll be thrown from the planet

into the night/onto cement

where all the blood trapped for 20 odd years

will rush to the wound

(an escape!)

and I’ll be left quiet and waiting for someone to notice me

in death as in life

and the local authorities will find my phone with this poem on it

and my grocery list

(cashews, eggs, “good” cheese)

and texts I should have taken care

to delete oh well

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cool looking stick

six blighted trees all in a row

tangled

mess

on the weekends I like to lie

in bed with your absence

rubbing

out the knots in my neck

checking

to see if you’ve appeared

but

still

no

I’m restless

and not doing anything about it

imagining horrible things

cutting

the pieces of rope that hold my eyeballs in their sockets

dropping

them into a jar

better now, better now

creative ways to obstruct your breathing part deux

longing turns to flatlands

to trees I used to climb in youth

to closing the blinds in the afternoon

and falling asleep to slowdive at 4pm

waking to little hungry mouths on my fingertips

still wailing

so I shove them in my pockets

bound and gagged

and go!

out!

to look at your old house

down on cathedral street

where I’ll stand until it starts to rain

and then some