I erase all poems about you
and my hands become chalk. The YouTube Famous divorce
lawyer says, “To love is to risk losing.” What do we
lose? I cannot bare
to throw away the tea eggs or the frozen soup
or the fish from 2021. Memory is like a fish. No,
longing.
A fish with a flashlight and a village of fangs. As if
to say,
with its iridescent fins, it is dark down here. It
will always be dark
and dense from life, from losing.
Book Club for Queers Who Can’t
Read In The Dream House
In August I said no. In September, I said maybe. In
January, I snuck
into a different bed. In May, I said, “Why am I with
this person?”
In May, I said, “Why did you do this?” In May I said,
“Why
did I do this?” In May I said, “Tomorrow, I will…” In
May I said, “I wish
this didn’t haunt me.” In May I said, “Let them haunt
me.” In May I said, “May I…?” In May I said, “I think
I can I think I can I think I
can I think I can I think I can...” In May I said, “Going… and going…
and going… and going…” In May I said, “Repairs…
replaces…” In May
I said, “Why buy a mattress anyyyyywhere else.” In May
I said, “I can.” I can.
