1197

when your face turns into a
pyramid
I plateau
and I joke
citronella and coughing
kisses
but I can’t get you to start
so I
and me
and the president
roll over
and I read him all
the notes you left in pink
marker with little hearts
saying
he’s saying
it’s too late
and I grin into a cliche
orange slice in my mouth
put against the wall
then on a platter
hung
then hung
and the house turns
pink
like a poorly drawn heart

I wrapped a bandana around
street poles and folded
into origami
unoriginal and leaning
against a greasy palm
and the house
tilts and all my men fall out