I’ve Stopped Thinking About Friday Nights

there                                                                          is the stretch and muscle release, it’s on your door
this house is too quiet i hate the roommate i hate the roommate             she never smiles
i want to stop daydrinking and i want to ride bikes
count all the weekends we’ve lost     to rosters                                                                       this is hard
i never see you and what we do isn’t cool i work better under a deadline and i’ve run out of metaphors
this is real and i see you                                                              but we don’t know how to have fun


six should be six should be seven, should be waiting
do the countdown                        , put the x in the box
stop skipping,                                too many          hours
it’s all listed                                                    all electronic
and play catch-up on the weekly with no breaks and
no                                                                          complaints
watch it with a smile on your face      and  compress
it’s either too much or             unread.                    stop
it.                                                     there’s too many lines

doc martens in the warmth
I don’t run, am speedwalking
back and forth and take glances into the
bottleshop that feels like abandon.
the light turns green but not
simultaneous. turn-taking
                                                                           this asphalt spits out uncertainty
                                                                           and pooling pork broth in my stomach
                                                                           i’m sure, this ends soon.
                                                                           so crack the spine and dust the cover
                                                                           we read the words from right
                                                                           and scrape our throats
or rolling rs
like rolling hills
in mountain ranges
with plates touching within
                                                                           please stop asking

imagine reverting  through                         forgan smith
knees in blood red soil and saying                  take me                                              im yours
this course is above minimum but i will fight for you on wednesday afternoons
through required                             readings

FUCK vegans!!!!!

We are not children anymore, she said
and We can stay up but rise awake knowing of consequence
You thumb numbers and pinky finger
enter, scroll-scroll
and fiddle “Hi”s with email signatures from
overseas Idon’tknowthat’s where My ear drums stopped
in my back porch comparing 

operating systems.

so We don’t have time for breakfast or brunch. but check alarms
and wait for the fifth one. half-eyed and
overwhelmed until the evening sun

I think I’m losing My arms, losing my Tangles as They



things can be short for once , you and i for once
collect bottles of hot sauce we organize by township
count paypass identified by wrist flicks
spoonfuls of red in table measurements
elbows over sinks sponge clutching
and they say scrub, and wait till it opens
tap once to retreat otherwise death sentenced
liquid circling
and this is extremely zoomed in
with no lid
and seaside serpents, fresh food peoplin’
i take a call and complain about the self-service line
other route haze in a past year autumn time
draped in inauguration
frozen section
this is a degree i have not discovered in darkness
and i wonder how the cat is, if the cage’s extended
swing in the stripes and ash between the deck sides
oil in the wok and lightly pan fried