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Friday, April 21, 2017

4.21.17 - kiki

O god of knot: everything is con-
nected, but that doesn’t make anyone less

lonely.

Someone doing cocaine in some
ladies’ room now eats kale--

a vegetable you have to massage but we don't 
touch each other because harassment is real.

I don’t

know you. Best we stay in our individual 
wrappers. Any touching can be done thru cello-

phane. It’s better. Kinky. Which is 
better. O vanilla soda: I've had a life

lived dry as

cotton. Sadness is the stretch of 
skin below stretching underclothes--the last 

stretch of a marathon inched thru as if 
to end were to win. I have a t-shirt

to tell me

You're a Winner. Some days I know I am
knot, others--knot’s worm. Today

I slipped in the kitchen. The milk spread into
gluey ocean and every last lifeboat was glass. 

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