XX
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AVALANCHE
gravity forgets me, rabbit foot, leaks of fortune my foot cleaves hewn by the only screw left stranded in the desk i didn't build when they shipped it in september, or last march; and everything holy is already dead and god gets hungry too and there's only like 4 steps on it anyway. |
|
this room makes me scared i'll never write a poem,
that's not about being raped or a car crash but it's still september, so i still can't shake last march and all my poems look like mountains; |
so i’m not picking up my clothes up,
even though this house isn’t mine.
and i am still in the third rotation,
my seat belt slack,
window cracked open ,
and my spine will still hit the ceiling two more times
before the tree’s arms or god’s
sets us flat onto the dirt road bloody, leafswept and beaten,
the shallow creases of us are filled in with dirt and 3 foreign bloods that don’t belong to us and she is asking me,
(i think)
(maybe god?)
for another cigarette to ash in the spot the mountain kept as souvenir of our first date;
dusty motherfucker can stay out my mattress next time.
1 of the 4 corners never felt a sheet touch it; and i have twin sized bed
and even if i had the room
i don't want anybody else to crash here
again.
even though this house isn’t mine.
and i am still in the third rotation,
my seat belt slack,
window cracked open ,
and my spine will still hit the ceiling two more times
before the tree’s arms or god’s
sets us flat onto the dirt road bloody, leafswept and beaten,
the shallow creases of us are filled in with dirt and 3 foreign bloods that don’t belong to us and she is asking me,
(i think)
(maybe god?)
for another cigarette to ash in the spot the mountain kept as souvenir of our first date;
dusty motherfucker can stay out my mattress next time.
1 of the 4 corners never felt a sheet touch it; and i have twin sized bed
and even if i had the room
i don't want anybody else to crash here
again.