I once saw a winter tree
With **** skewered on each branch
Next to the road
In the front lawn
Of my elementary school crush.

I once melted a coil of her hair
On a lightbulb
In her attic
I still remember the smell.

I do not remember the smell of the tree
I imagine it smelled like ****.

I once watched return of the jedi

On a pulled out futon mattress
While my elementery school crush
And her two younger sisters
Explored each others bodies.

I ignored them.
I also ignored Carrie Fisher losing her entire planet.

Instead I watched their mother lose a game of majong on her dusty grey computer moniter.

She then sold some of the hoarder stash lining their walls on ebay.

This is where I learned to observe.
Being a fly in the tar pit is more honest then
Being a fly on the wall.

I do not remember the smell of starwars

I imagine it smells a lot like a woman
losing a game of majong.

I imagine it smells a lot
like sweat
and tears.