Urban Decay

There are more ghosts than people here. The past has pushed us out.

Gentrified by poltergeists, the city renames itself “Nostalgia You’ll Never Recapture.”

Skyscrapers like headstones. Car horns like dirges.

We spirit westward, far from here, in search of hills without cairns.

In search of homes unhaunted.

In search of spaces for life to begin.

Just Enough

He writes ten pages to arrive at a single punchline. Who needs that much setup?

Who has time?

We have never lost anything we truly needed.

We have never felt full eating only air.

 

Constellations

 

My fingers move like needle points, spun between the poles of

Clavicle and calves. Invisible lines of magnetism,

Your freckles are my guides. By nights these constellations, traced,

Become my map and sky: Polaris, and the star charts — a universe laid bare.

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Overstayed

Where the wind blew pine needles across the roof. Scritch, scritch.

I didn’t know it would be this long.

I never would’ve let the dog out.

Never would’ve kissed you under the wolf moon. They say it’s cursed. Now we know.

Scritch. Continue reading