Poem: Whiskey in the sunshine

I always forget

In the cool blue like it’s the ocean


1

You
With your sanitary hand napkins
That you specifically call towelettes
Not an English accent but it’s the best
I always forget what state you’re from
And you tease me for that very gesture

2

You
Still come by
Even though I told you not to anymore
Sunday morning, you show up at my door
And you proceed to infiltrate
Ask me who bought those flowers
(Me)
Ask me who I’m getting ready for
(Myself)
Take a book about romance and passion off my bookshelf
“By mistake”

3

You don’t make mistakes
You’re this rare thing, you were born immaculate
The only thing about you is your greed
Your hunger
You push me down under
The water, when we’re swimming
I love to bask in the cool blue like it’s the ocean
I’m relieved you don’t have blue eyes
Thank god you’re not one of those guys
You tutor me in math and I give you chocolates
That I pocket from the work parties I choose not to attend
I have plans
Baby
I got plans

4

You only wear Vans
Such a boy you are!
I like when you play fight with me
Rummage through my hair
That I combed neatly for our “date”
I like that you participate
We’re like two soldiers at war
That have each others’ back
When I thought you left I had a panic attack
I promised I’d get you back

5

Get you back
You’d have to be mine first
And you know, that sounds like an intolerable curse
Being in love with you would possibly be the worst
But we’d go out all the time
Sip the whiskey I like under the warm sunshine
Spend the day together on Valentine’s
Come away with me
Let my pink nails scratch your head
That’s the only way you can get to bed

6

Now I have you stuck in my head
And you know, that sounds like an intolerable curse
We’re like two soldiers at war
Except I’d be smiling at you too much to shoot
And you know I love to shoot

7

But then there’s you 

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Poem: Reflections on tobacco

Reflections on tobacco

I’ve been occupying myself with novel things so I don’t have to think.

I’m gracious, I stopped smoking cigarettes

I didn’t smoke them because they made me feel good; I’d go out for the brief “thinking hour,” the time I had with myself. 

And if someone was smoking with me, I was still swimming somewhere near the branches of the distances pointing inward of my mind. Swimming in circles. Taking private jet planes. 

I think of picking the habit up again (foolish) just to rest my leg on the side of a closed storefront and come to terms with what is and what was. 

I can do that now, if I wanted to. But I don’t want to. Mold like clay. Sweet summer’s day. 

I hope I don’t meet anyone who smokes soon.

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