liii. scratch

our madness did nothing but lead us to the cage where the head gorilla said, “told you so”.

lii. platelet count

your words get under my skin, creep through my bloodstream, make their way to my heart. everything you feel makes me feel a little less alone.

li. nightmare

the cops edited the scenery, spun it around by planting cocaine on you, bursted through the door as you sagged in your apathetic chair. your eyes glued to the dog shit the officer had on his shoe, connected to the carpet.

l. tightlipped

i will say nothing. i will be silent through heat and stunning slices of november rain. i will drift like a ghost through my own life.

xlix. stare straight into the sun

then cry when you’ve gone blind.

xlviii. bon appetit

they didn’t believe i’d do it. neither did i. but i did it. it’s like the drama that ate itself for dinner, and i just ate the panic and farted it back out.

xlvii. megahertz

the television was held on mute, analog waves were dancing in the room. i thought it’s time we got on with our lives.

xlvi. outside

it’s still humid, but there are rainbows in sight that are crawling out from under the cars to join the three week-old puddles and seep down gutters. but i don’t really mind.

xlv. time/frames

see, it’s just that when you ask, i can’t tell you. all that comes out are white clouds in the morning and dark skies by six. everything else is severed. still frames of us here. and there. and then they’re gone.

xliv. about five full moons ago

we fled this routine city in a black ford lynx ‘05.