1449

The mechanic has the AC

in his hands

as much as a man could hold

anyway.

My hands are clay.

You suck the meat off the bone.

Your breath smells like

lemons and smoke

and when the whiskey kicks in

I’m convinced

you’re

my mother.

Ouch.

I take my memories

like floss

scrape the black off.

goooooonnnnnnnneeeeeeee.

I’m a thousand sheets of linen.

April 25.

I’m a delicate condition

your momma’s new condition.

I’ve got good eyes for

good eyes

and I leave them on the table.

Man I was bugging out.

A couple of hours

I’m downtown lights

my chest is a coffin

and your head

is snow.

Ouch.

Dominoes and bad luck.

We played cards

with your roommates after

I laid limp beside you.

Ouch.

A thousand lives

with no deaths

I’m drooling waterfall tigers.