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Friday, April 27, 2018


If There Is One Girl, There Must Be Two

As droll and pink-fingered as we can be,
we are terrible characters, 
Fester and Malignance. The shredded papers
with which we’re stuffed turn out to be mostly
death tolls and instructions for lattice pie crust designs.
Sweetness is like love, it’s true,
but I wake her up so she can help me chart the differences.
It’s how I’m feeling.
I’m afterlifing hard and want company.
I look down into the cloud whip
where yesterday is still pastel at the edges.
They must be carrying us on a clock now.
We must be numbers.
I start eyeing up the space between numbers.
I’m always trying to stick infinity
on top of a little golden ring for her.
Such carnage and her button nose. 
Girls, girls, girls.
You can say it
like a barker or you can say it
like a mother on a stoop
calling two delinquents home. 
I wake her up again.
The worst thing I've done
is use my love for you as an excuse, I say. 
She says, Go back to sleep.
It's all you've ever done. 

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