do you think
wallpaper wants to talk
to the people in the room?

don't you think there's wisdom
in wallpaper?
how it absorbs the stories and
the spinning revolving door
of people who come and go

I've developed a strange type of anger lately
I've never really been an angry person
I've only felt it in glimpses
like when I was a teenager
and my mom set unjust authority,
or a few times
as a younger girl,
when she was drunk and didn't follow through.
Now I get so angry
that I've started throwing my phone
and deleting apps
and taking all 6 of my cheap gold rings off
and throwing them 1 by 1
at all corners of the room
I started ripping pages out of my planner
and throwing them across the room
I started ripping my phone cord out of the wall
and going for runs all of a sudden
and I am sprinting on the pavement
pounding my feet violently against the cement
and I've been collapsing at this field down the street
and laying in the irritating, dry, straw grass
and crying into the sunset
I've been snapping at people
and myself
I've been hyperventilating
and I keep taking my rings off and throwing them against the walls

Found a penny heads up
Saw your face on it
Tossed it off the Broadway Bridge
There's nothing lucky about
finding a small man's face
staring up at you
on a peaceful walk

love is
the friendly Atlantic ocean
a lotion that never fully rubs in
humid air

love permeates
like a leaky roof
honey on toast
dandelions

cold, blue skies
with crisp air
and sun in my eyes
breathing deeply amongst the crowd
and I feel like an installation
in a hotel lobby
or a decorative vase
with dry arrangements
I feel so mad
the empty yet amused eyes
peering beyond me
while I'm duct-taped to this pedestal
while I'm nailed into a wall
while I'm the frame of a painting.

I'm working through stuff.
It feels like untangling a necklace
after finding it in the dryer.

I keep writing about
working through stuff
without sorting much out.

Maybe I'm just playing with the stuff.
It's best to have a lighthearted dialogue
With your shadow.

This is all normal
Petting dogs and
Nodding at strangers
Holding the door open
Sometimes it makes me
Go underwater and cry
Where my tears blend in with
Everything
Sometimes I wonder why I’m
Wondering why
We want joy
I sit so naturally perched on
A tall naked tree branch
That’s in a grey sky
With a vague horizon
And quiet brisk air