(2014)
Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.
yeah, the contract the social one, so long ago supposedly agreed to, we were born instead into. what
the conquering child turns 50, gets the gag out its mouth, says here i am. let’s play now
we go walking around walking all over this town nothing ever getting us down cause we’re just a couple of clown…
was all stupid. you weren’t that entertaining. i find it all only sad now, that
let’s put all the stupid things in a pile and call them “love” or “worry” or
love does not beat on doors, beg at tables. it is always
if you enjoy this pain, all expressions of it, being here compiled, then, yes enjoy them, but
leaning into, not against it. no, decidedly for, yes, always that, no matter
bring me things to break myself upon till
liking to say things, all kinds of things, mostly about the way things seem
if i stub my fucking toe it’s their fault so say i, and who could argue? you almost
a breeze. already know what’s what. shut up. kiss her. shut up...
reflecting on the moment before, would be useful only were it not already perfect.
i love you for the doubt you show me still possible in this body where you show me