I find myself
in a constant melting atmosphere.
the whisper of old hooves
echo the back lanes
and the stoops of this pre-american landscape.
Her avacado center piece
off centered me
like uneven couch cushions.
Her couch sucked too
stuck to my half Spanish
sweat covered winter coat
from biking across town
to be witnessed in my
Hindenburg costume.
I scrape myself out of awkward corners,
I am gum on her floor.
counting ceiling tiles
Imagination space station
i summon a planetarium
and dream planets i would become an outlaw on.
"I wish you had a car."
i wish you'd shut the fuck up.
and let me finish forgetting
sitting in ant piles would be much more rewarding.
i wish i had a lot more. . .
i wish i could have my time back.
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