if fish flew farther
fishermen could catch them
without going to sea
the dark sushi bar
has an especially dark
corner booth for you
finally some sun
to keep vitamin d up
and cool down the pale
the mountain does not
bend, even though it itches
the rock slide teases
Alfred Hitchcock is
dead and yet chocolate syrup
still makes a sweet blood
i don’t understand
dungeons and dragons and so
very many things
they call me crazy
when i wear my bra outside
my shirt on some days
an ode to white walls
blank canvases crisp and smooth
that never can last
the usher shows you
to your fifty dollar seat
behind a large hat
i have slept 12 hours
and yet i am still sleepy
chronic fatigue *****
rob plays games like a
fiend—new media crumbles
beneath his fingers