i’m still the same words in a new font
same old punchline but more nuanced
the same marathon you’ve been running
under all the layers, an onions still an onion

finally a warm spring day
i break out my sandals
a couple of years old but still in prime shape
i put them on, drive to the show
exit my car, step onto the sidewalk
and sink up to my ankles in fresh cement
a tiny warning flag on the edge of the walk
this is how the world works

McDonald's crispy strips
Chipotle's triple-wrap burrito
Sonic's half-price shake after 5 pm
Gucci lotion
Verizon cell phones
Carona beer
trying to guess the TV station
by the demographic nature
of the commercials

we’re born into unyielding architecture
and concrete landscape of circumstance
our only freedom
is interpreting that architecture
and negotiating that landscape

I was sitting at a table in a café when she walked in.

I said, “Hey, good-looking stranger— would you like a cup of coffee?”

We were laughing, drinking coffee—

when suddenly, she caressed me.

We were heading straight to the wedding—

then I woke up, needing coffee.

I used to think blue eyes were pretty,
his were not.
his were not cornflower, sapphire, baby, indigo, azure,
or cloudy sky blue.
His were midnight where the light pollution from the city blocks the stars.
Iceberg, squall, hypothermia, eventual death

What
if
I
was
just

























Gone?

you wake up, you’re angry
the world, you resent it
your moms on ozempic
there’s no one to vent with
the ceiling makes sense
if you stare at it long enough