This Is When I Tell You Like It Is (Part Deux)
Last night I had a bad dream and you were like always. In and out of the house there were back packs packed. I’ll stay here. It’s my dream. A bird’s nest our home. You could be a narrative. We could keep talking. There are delicacies in history. Ways of speaking. Terms of phrase. The sounds of pants. Do you trust me. Because I stutter and I care a whole lot. When we watch movies we are looking for trouble. We are looking to be told we know better than that.
The Cry of the Iceberg in Me
I say what I see. It’s just that simple. It is night out and beautiful. O heart, seriously, I miss you like horses. What I learned is consequences. The same people, the same people every place cock their heads for everything possible to come over. Sometimes people say “I like your boots” because they don’t know what else to say. Peg and Satan were shipping things, trying to do right by people. Boxes are things to hug without responsibility. Like a road in Concord turns because you know it will, I know what all this means because I’m telling you about it. Dear Americans, You run better than French people fish. Seriously. Like horses.
People with Muddy Feet Were Dancing on this Table
I am your friend. I go deeper into the forest. I put a belt on. I make out with bandits to see if you care. This is what it’s like in heaven. The animals cutting our hair. When they dance it looks like they just want to feel something. The happy happy bird! We are human kites and we eat breakfast. Can you fire the wind? No. You cannot. You are just a person in California. In the forest birds stop. They become broccoli. I can convince myself of anything. And the wind ruined your face. Everyone was disappointed and I was toothpaste. Dear me. This is what fireworks look like. A thing to complicate stars. You love like a slow train coming to a stop. A bird walks into a bar and lies down in the grass. If I touch the bird and it is afraid. If I touch the bird and it is afraid of everything.