pettygrove park 5.22.18

Commisserating over sunburns.
He keeps his socks on;
Thus, a stark contrast
Between his feet and his legs.
She laughs:
“You’re cute but that’s gross.”
On “cute” I know it’s on.
And like a viper he strikes,
I hear the rustle of clothing
Against the wood bench
As he sidles closer.
“Can I ask you something?”
In a voice above a whisper,
Then whispers,
Then the silence
Of a first kiss(es).
I’m reading Ursula Le Guin.
They pull away and continue talking,
And I listen for his interest in that.

garden bar 5.9.18

“All black everything”
She mouthed to herself
In the mirror this morning.
She eats a single slice
Of salami from
A plastic Ziploc bag.
(Or at least that’s
What it looks like
From my periphery.)
She in short hair
Hunched over her phone,
Laughing at things
But not too loud
To draw attention.
The salad zone
Blasts Bohemian Rhapsody.
It’s quiet, everyone
Drinks the diet version
Of things. I’m thinking
About the carrots
I didn’t eat for lunch.
Outside,
The clouds roll in.

garden bar 4.27.18

You remember
Right?
Everything fades.
All memory
Rests on the precipice.
She walks with purpose–
She reads Ghost World–
She eats a salad.
This will be nothing
In 1,000 years.
This will not exist.
Your brain is loose
With information.
She wears Christmas colors.
Your life as long
As an atom’s mass
To a black hole.
She turns the pages–
She ignores everyone.
When we are gone
Instead of monuments
There will be bones
In the dirt.

pettygrove park 4.26.18

It’s warm out
So I’m outside again,
A ghost of translucent skin
And awkward-angled sunburns,
Draped in cheap Target cloth.
A single man in cyan
Sits on a sun-drenched hill
Staring into a bright rectangle.
I write about him
In a similar rectangle.
I do my best to not ogle
The women in sundresses
But let’s face it:
The world is blooming now
And there’s much more
To look at.

I, and maybe you,
Pull clods of earth asunder
As we haul ourselves
From the sunken winter,
Shaking our lumbering frames,
Inhaling the soft scent
Of flowers. We smell love,
And feel the warm breeze
Against our cheeks.
We’ve won our annual
Fight against the seasons.
We’ve won once again.

033p: howling alone (ingrid)

i don’t give a fuck
everybody dies
some hit by a truck
some shot twixt the eyes
others hang themselves
some while jerking off
some infect the world
with just a simple cough

so you see
worrying about me
is just a waste of time
who can blame a guy
pissed off at the world
for shooting up a school
and taking out these fools
if only i’d been hit
i should’ve been a shield
cause living ain’t for shit
and nothing ever heals

chorus

032p: 21st century girl (dana)

whist’ling down the hall
a spring in every step
i blossom in the fall
awaken with some pep

my mirror loaded up
with inward-facing praise
the summer swollen shut
forgotten in a haze

i’m your
21st century girl
i’m the
future of the free world

students passing by
slow and steadily
fresh-faced alibis
potential guarantees

all the kids in school
were putty in my hands
i never lost her cool
i always had it planned

chorus