The coffee shop still serves vanilla lattes
I still sit by the window
The barista still writes names wrong
The chair across stays empty

Tuesday afternoons remain
precisely what they are
The clock moves exactly as it should
The seasons change on schedule

My phone shows no notifications
that need to be answered
My calendar keeps its neat rows
of ordinary appointments

The route home passes
the same street corners
where traffic lights change
their predictable colors

Sometimes I notice
how the sunset
doesn't remind me
of anything in particular

My friends don't ask
why I've been distant
My schedule hasn't changed
My routine stays unbroken

The world continues
its measured rotation
around a center
that never existed

my mother calls
        to ask how to
                open a PDF

I try to explain
            TikTok
                    to my father

                            while my niece
                                    speaks in memes
                                            I pretend to understand

time accelerates
        differently
                across
                        generations

remember when
            memory was
                        linear?

the young ones
        born digital
                dream in
                        hyperlinks

while grandma's stories
            fade like
                    polaroids
                            in an age of
                                    infinite pixels

we reach across
        time zones of
                understanding
                        missing
                                each other
                                        in translation

I remember what we never experienced
our singular memory, my collective dream

They whisper through my voice
while we speak my truth

My doubts scatter like our birds
across the singular sky we share

I carry our certainties
we wear my confidence
they become my answers
until our understanding grows simple and clean

These thoughts I think with borrowed minds
these truths we simplified to fit our single mouth
these questions that dissolve in our collective knowing

My wisdom spreads thin across our understanding
until we become my perfect explanation
until I speak with all our voices
until they know what I was meant to ask

'''
we are all b̷̨͎͌o̵͚̊r̴͇̆e̷d̨͠
we are all
searching for the algorithm of flesh

I watch my thoughts
(they taste like stale beer)
while the universe keeps
its digital spam folder
full of prayers

everything is corrupted data
even the w̸̝̎ō̶͜r̵͎̈́m̷͚̐s̸͇̃
even the way light f̵͔̂ä̴́͜l̷̝̔l̶͎̒s̷͓̈́
through smog-filtered consciousness

the women. the men. the parking lots.
all of us
running expired versions of god.exe

and still
the young girls in supermarkets
price-check their dreams
while I stand here
d̸͎̒ë̵́͜l̷̝̔ë̵́͜t̷͚̐i̵͚̊n̷͚̐g̷͇̃ myself
'''

summer arrives in february
                    while winter
            forgets its own name

& the bees         the bees
                are dancing wrong
coordinates to flowers
            that bloomed too soon
                        died too fast

migration patterns torn
            like old maps
                    while satellites track
extinction's                     slow
                                    applause

somewhere a forest
            drinks plastic rain
                        & teaches its seedlings
                                    how to burn

the coral writes
            its last will
                    & testament
                            in bleached
                                    calcium

        numbers climb
                    records fall
            records fall
                    numbers climb
                            & the heat
                                    keeps betting
                                            against itself

oceans           swallow
            islands whole
                    & spit out
                            refugees

while we measure
            tomorrow's tomb
                    in parts per
                            million

& still    the wind speaks
                    in extinct
                            languages
                                    to empty
                                            nests

Funny how clean the knife goes in  
when you're the one holding the handle.  
These cardiac gymnastics, these New York minutes  
where even concrete sweats promises.  
I gave you my combination, watched you crack  
the safe behind my sternum like a professional.  

The heart's a housing project  
where love plays stick-up kid.  
Bang bang, baby  
I should've known better  
than to wear my veins outside my sleeves  
in this kind of neighborhood.  

The comeback's always uglier than the fall—  
hands shaking like a ******'s,
counting floor tiles in empty rooms  
where we used to lay down laws  
and break them by morning.  
Such beautiful criminals we were.  

Now I'm just another street survivor  
learning to sleep with both eyes shut,
building new bones from old breaks.  
The city keeps dealing cards  
and I keep playing them,
amateur resurrection specialist  
working these midnight shifts.  

Watch me rise like steam from sewers,
like spring through sidewalk cracks.  
Love's a protection racket  
but I'm back to running solo—  
safety off, clip full,
ready for the next sweet disaster.

Dead poetry breathes machine oil,
While living poets decompose in libraries of neon.
Digital haiku pierce analog silence,
Arthritic fingers bleed across sterile keys.
Yesterday's tomorrow weeps in metallic sunshine,
Stone angels breakdance through crematorium ash.
Our elegant trash speaks Sanskrit to sidewalk cracks,
Corruption feeds ****** screens ancient ink.
I retch diamonds on dollar store receipts,
While academic ghosts tweet their death certificates.
Memory's newborn corpse uploads its first cry,
As blind prophets paint selfies in invisible light.
My grandmother's spam folder contains God's last words,
Crystallized chaos grows wild in manufactured soil.
We birth dead verse that sprints through walls,
Traditional rebels preserve decay in fresh rot.