from bed, gibble garble. nonsense. bleh.

compare

contrast

dare

give me the test

sunshine stains on the window sill reminded me

what is now fades

unless we pull the shades

a private good night spoken before i role and clutch my pillow

eventually opening my eyes to everything else but you

surprise to tell

it’s nothing new

lying next to me

i can hear, see, and smell the memory

living

we run to the sidelines panting and heaving every misgiving a syndrome worth relieving to relish in relativity

light coming down from this time

we squeezed every drop and forgot to taste the satisfaction fixed on a grandmothers face try to find a request that doesn’t involve delivering some thought of catching contraband born humans picked up in furniture stained houses sipping capri sun and downing doritos when widows watched predawn news with hope of making it to the mid day blues of soap opera clashes and drama flashes just open the windows and look outside clyde is leaving fran’s house and they aren’t friends unless without her blouse i see that as i hide in a corner feeding with a mouse-foreigner squabbling for cheese to please the me’s that i forget to be when dolly madison licked her finger and put a new spin on dessert from plastic unwrap and go back to basics i need a new fix to fund my figurine collection that sits in a panting shelf waiting for you to remember me at christmas where my list is deserted by the pressing need to make sure you’re happy and i have greed

speed up time and get out of this situation trapped by elation i want to be sad again fueling my rages and art kept in cages for this part where happiness actually exists and i pine for kicking stones alone catching the eyes of a girl on a phone who notices i can’t continue on wishing for the day a paper mache donkey gets smacked around and rains candy all over those gorgeous mop headed dolts pretending this tradition belongs to them then sitting in your den waiting for warm meat and dancing clowns to create a version of popping sounds that can’t be traced to ancestral roots flutes playing bach was boring and i need to cut my toe nails

thought about you this morning

the words left me so i kept pouring over the page in utter nonsense

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