They are in a car. One of them
is afraid they will all die in a
car accident, but believes there
are certain songs that no god
would allow them to crash
and die to. But he is not
in charge of the iPod.
We like to train ourselves to correctly
respond to the way the people walking
in front of us blow their smoke, and
we like to make sure we solve problems
as soon as they start. We also like
to teach our business partners to breathe.
The night feels like it speeds
blood. Especially when I think
about all my things. Not even
the expensive ones. Mostly I
just wonder at this accumulation –
if I was this good with people
then I’d have an ocean of people
to spend time worrying about.
If it’s not one thing, it’s another.
Although, talking like this makes
me feel a little better.
If you really want to know someone
watch how they cut meat.
If they caress the meat with
the blade, if they slide their
fingers along the marbled, fatty parts,
then you’ve found a keeper.
Today I woke up still chained
to you. You texted me a picture
of a funny advertisement.
I texted back my eyes,
the cheapest picture frames
in the world.
When a pet is no longer strokable,
when it is limp in the road or
tumor-riddled, we gather our
best faces and put them on
for each other. For some of our
entertainment has been tampered with.
We have that “whimsical things
too, must face oncoming traffic”
lump in our throat. We put it
in a box and bury it in the yard.
He sometimes masturbates
on his roof. He calls it his
“cost of living raise.”
She rubs her gums and
reaches past him and then at him,
she says words stern as stairs.
She says, “For the last six months
I have been our goddamn bridge.
I got waxed!” The
lit screens in the room plunge
at each other and kind of hum.