the weight of those great decisions and
the trick of how to know how to thrive
—maybe add a photo to the post—
bubbling black bile and moldering plans
of, yes, I suppose I’ve lost you now
so let’s check in on the detective
and those spotty hands maundering
among our dark drawers and under things
—thump—a quick novel sensation—a dense
syrup in the major muscles—
half a conversation running along
without us then gone, back to slow
daylight grumbling nasty thoughts what can I
exploit from that dismal green land
Tag: plans
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No more fireworks just instructions
in a language in the shape
of a forgotten snake or
a hope for a better harvest
though with our dried plans nowburied how but I stood for far
too long the brittle hunger of
wind taking bits of the
but what exactly wentwrong and why did our words
fail to move it even an inch
when we were told to draw a lineunder the bubble inside the
stale loaf our last tooth would not bite
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and though I’ve made so many plans
when I look in the mirror by accidentbefore a shower a small bird tumbles
down the stair forgetting about wings and sowe come to this moment when momentous
things may be mouthed into the shabby mirrorof the sky and from the neighbor’s apartment
something like a snort or sigh
other animals 