a cry for
help
no answer

I Can't Leave

I'm not restless, it's not a kink, not to be the

self, happening things upon me.

But I am excited by night,

for all the things by sleep.

Not rest, or the wide ephemera,

to be shaken loose over toast,

but for the things that have happened,

five hours ahead, or behind,

the morning when a cushion plumped

might restore a sense of space,

or when the news seems weird

and its pigeon bones are the meal,

my day becomes what's made of them.

We hope to age, we hope to think 

of the slight adjustments we make in series,

as the true scope of the intent to age

and I can't wait to sleep,

to wake and think of what I must yield to,

for the next age, then the age after that.

My skill set's stuck

and there's an old way brewing,

I can't wait to transcend news.

I'm clapped out forever.

I like the canteen space,

I like letters, falling,

I like to peel off the others

I'm not rested, it's not a kink,

so long as I'm tired,

I can't leave,

I can't wait.

gadget gadget
good school gadget
move on out to the suburbs
gadget on the ferry
gadget on the subway
husband tracker
check the fridge on the gadget
so you can put in your fresh direct order
that 120k a year isn't going to spend itself

IMAGINARY WEDDING

Hat silhouettes in the crowd so furry because

my parents friends are friends and

so happy for me

make me cry through the turbulence

because the love is so cheesy so addictive

forever feasting snack

of this first, second, third

adulthood

tarot

102 Bay View Avenue

504 E. 6th Street

36 Dean Street

1147 Bedford Avenue

125 W. Langhorne Avenue

914 W. Summit Avenue

127 Eagle Street

"Is there a certain question you have in mind?" the Tarot card reader will ask.

"Yes," I know I'll say.

"Do you want to tell me what it is?"

"I'm not sure."

"Or at least what it has to do with?"

"Place."

"Okay."

And she'll deal the deck, her hands moving gracefully, quickly, but not too quick

that someone watching can't see clearly her every move. 

The cards are worn a little around the edge. She will be wearing a beautiful

and subtle shade of lipstick because she almost always does. 

Where is her home, I might be wondering as she looks down at what she's doing. 

The answer she will find is that place the way most people think about it 

does not exist and that nothing is permanent or infinite except

for impermanency and change.