Yeah

Burn out my bad luck on the small things

Steal my money, scorch my food, Lose my rings

Moths can dine on my very best clothes

Split my lip split my hairs bleed my nose

Stoplights go red and my breaklights burn out

Break my dishes, sunglasses, and boughs

Burn out my bad luck on the small things

So maybe the big stuff will pass me up clean

30

You know how sometimes

The love of your life is snoring

Fully asleep beside you

And you can’t stop thinking about

Pushing a 1.6mm needle

Through the most intimate part

Of their body?

You know how sometimes

One time

You live out your first full day

As a thirty year old person?

You know how sometimes

You don’t want night to come

You don’t want morning to come

Because it will break the bubble

The tender bubble of time

Where you two are all and only

Where questions and trials are held

At bay?

Snide

Committing fraud in the evening

All covered in soil

They eat what they eat but

We’re here to destroy

And the bones in the basement

They’re not about us

All these poems are displacement

They’re not about us

But the hollow point is

The howling harrowing hanging part is

Or it’s not and it’s dust

It’s borrowing so much but never enough

For the cooling silk side

The lavender throw

Occluding light with unseasonable snow