The city is nothing like my town
The hole of the population
Walks with only themselves
Sometimes they have shoulder bags
Olive scarves
Boat shoes
Sometimes they are running
There are many people
And not one will look at you

The black cricket of doubt spent the day in my bedroom.

He fell from my crisp bedding as I shook.

I gasped when I saw him.

He did not hop.

He crawled and haunted.

So small a bug yet I made my way around him.

I let him have the room.

There are paper plates
with your face on them.

Your green windbreaker
has made you a legend.

boys want girls
who want nothing.
it's easy.

YOU WANT TO BE BIG

BUT YOU ARE ALWAYS SAYING

"be small
be small
be small"