WEATHER
Writing the weather Whilst wildfires burn the news — I like the way you move I like the way your slit of hips hog my eyes Bent crumble thought confirms the machine I need to be I guess I am not Beautiful anymore. If the mirror’s blank Sight seeing rain, Whilst the snow shits on My city. All I write needs to be reworked but Nobody wants to help a poor stripper put on sneakers no, no but, regardless I see the damage done by cerebral old cereal point shows laughs It’s never been darker Behind glass revolutions. By now, you should know I’m lost. I pretend the jealousy of every other sentence has no imprint no more. I pretend I love my language, so false I pretend I’m simple I’m complex I antonyme Fear elbows it’s way through poems yes to be seen flushed Knees begging the tiles to return hands to a palm gritty with hunger’s speech Plastic scent grabs all gripe inside So I forget my greediness of document the stamp footing of doubt Teething on draught, like a nipple astray I never said I wasn’t romance I am sitting in the gaze Of orange & fume Thoughts smoke through forever smoke Apparently I’m insecure writing I’m so Red With snow shaking Desire, somethingSIP
I sip thoughtfully from yesterday Rearranging your gazes & poetry. You’re funny you say I don’t know what was funny. I think you I also think I will avoid you I mean If I do But probably I won’t because I am Mature now. I am beyond attachment fashion I just wear lace & call myself Gay. Look I’ve grown I dream about my ex every day or so He’s sending me long letters difficult to read A confession I hope Appalled I said merci smiling like a cashierOIL
At the hour of oil sometimes it’s difficult To separate light from love. Curtains jam the syllables swift, like a mother leaking as she whispers regret. As her whiskers bathe the child running & inside in broken butter flies. O she breaks in & around thieving laughter where none was. sage before butter cream for minty nights toes tangled in cries.