you scrape leftovers from glass containers the same way I scrape desire from between my legs in the same can, we throw these perfectly good things away
Tag: poetry
headless mode
Lost sight of the road, eyelids falling two curtains to keep the sick & coughing patients from touching my soul. I nearly destroyed a little old man with the opening of the ambulance door. Even under the first-responder’s glare, I didn’t know what was happening. After that, my partner banned me from the driver’s seat. […]
state of being
I don’t want to talk about politics, about how they move money around like toys kicked across the floor, back and forth I don’t want to listen about what’s happening beyond your five windows and single door cases confirmed in our county now and what does that mean for us, on the ambulance what do […]
Just Thoughts
Caitie, can we talk please? about cutting heart strings propagating them in soil how fast does loneliness grow and when it does, what is it good for? . Sophia, can’t you just listen? why does it always start in the kitchen so deep and full I don’t even notice hot water kissing burns into my […]
Things I left with you
On the stovetop, a half eaten blueberry pie from one of our nightly Meijer runs. Leftover fries and half a burger (probably spoiled now) in the fridge (you know, the ones from the Irish pub where you didn’t order a drop of alcohol, told me you haven’t felt anything since you stopped drinking, and I […]
Biology Exam I // Sunday
some day is different from someday. I don’t know how. Both are just as abstract, deferring responsibility . I will do better tomorrow I will love you better some day, someday when I no longer want to . I did not cram for my biology exam thoughts escaped me like particles through protein channels, passive […]
Disruptions
there are men with guns across the street some women, too; in uniforms weapons propagated on forearms leashed dogs and blockading cop cars scene is not safe, the first thing they teach you in EMT school I turn back to my phone screen . he’s getting existential again I read the message, ask if he’s […]
