Monday, June 1, 2020


—I BROKE DOWN LAST WEEK AND COULDN’T PICK MYSELF BACK UP


gaslight days

today’s
another
gaslight
everything
wonky
flashlight
pupils
popping
like hot
grease
or a liquid
migraine
on the surface
of the lake
or else it’s
the fireplace
talking shit
spreading panic
like it’s
cheap
sunshine
and I know
I know that
fireplaces
can’t speak
but
it takes
sleight of hand
to make sense
of these
pyrite moments
neighbors toting
guns
by the storefronts
cities shrieking
nearly
every place
a combustible
tinderbox
infused with
gasoline and
an eternal
flame
so I tell
the fireplace
to shut
the fuck up
I tell the lake to
recuse itself
and man up
I tell myself
don’t be an idiot
breathe
relax
look for beauty
even if it’s
not there

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