June 2011

Four Proses

Gonna Tear Open the Sky, Obviously

There is no real weather in rooms. It is all fake weather, predetermined by a knob on a wall, a log over some coals. Monster, I am a vicious loneliness. Sometimes she is snowed in and there is no way to reach her anyway but, still, I know she shivers. How do I tell her I shiver just the same? Monster, I never stand under streetlights when I think of my exes. I always forget my mild need for sun. Monster, let me stay stuck in the chorus. There are so many ooooohs, someone is having a good time. I eat endorphins like a motherfucker. I don’t want to be here when the black flies come. Monster, being fucked up is a full-time job.



In the Middle of the Night the Toilet Seat Is Up

Monster, I am sniffing the glue you left in the glue bottle marked GLUE. I never have to take a pill that says MANIC. A girl I barely know asks me how I’m doing. I say Sometimes I am doing okay and sometimes I am not doing okay. Right now I am playing Jeopardy! with my heart. Don’t ask me how it ends. Monster, thank you for leaving the lights on even when we’re all asleep—I often have to piss in the middle of the night. Monster, did you lift the toilet bowl seat with me? Monster, my heart feels like it’s been through all of the appliances at Sears. The problem is, good songs are never long enough.



I Am Sick of Letting the World Be Lonely

My third wife will be my favorite wife. If she were all heart, I would never step in mud. I will tell my third wife Summertime is a great word to hum. Fuck the black lung, I will only inhale a little. Monster, I am hungry and full of sperm. I haven’t gotten through my first two wives yet so I am always staring at empty bottles. Monster, I woke up this morning and my heart was still there. Behind these locked windows everyone dreams in run-on sentences. I created the Internet so she could email me but I have forgotten how to turn on a computer. This morning I felt better than decent until I looked at my bloody knuckles. Monster, I am always calling you Monster.



We Will Celebrate Ourselves

I followed her to the last place I cried. Monster, it wasn’t far. These white walls and locked windows, they are too honest for me. I am confined but I stretch like a free man, like I still share the same grass as her and her and the other her. Monster, we will celebrate ourselves. We will sleep on our backs so we are always looking up. We will pretend it was always supposed to feel like this. Monster, if you were realer than me, I would love you less. Summertime is the saddest word to hum alone. We will drink whatever little we have left. Monster, I have drawn a line down the city with a piece of chalk. Let us never go to the other side.

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