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