what do you want from me?

it is as though all the molecules of breath

have formed a line up

requesting a standoff

because we are not sure what dance step to grace you with yet

i hate all of it with the same

fierceness that i love

and must hiss in every plump mouth some sort of sordid truth

like television has held all the answers

all along

and like this fine aged gouda pairs well with this stout


lady in the corner staring at her stop watch

smoothing her hair back like an orchestra conductor.


It is so good to have you only a digit away


but i want the sway of this intrepid sound wave to penetrate like a sharp breath


as if you and all creation are drowning


like your shoulder shrugs

were a work of art


and you give a shit

what this drunk girl has to say.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s