Don’t open your mouth to utter
“you’re growing further away”
Don’t remind me
that the Atlantic stretched 4 miles last night,
or that Louisiana is sinking at a rapid pace

I do not care
I can only think of myself


I can see that the sun doesn’t shine at home like it does here,
How come your skin doesn’t seem as thick as mine does now?

I’m sorry but
the only thing that calls my name at night is the smell,
of that sticky sweet heavy dew that clings to the morning,
on the nights I drove when I shouldn’t have
on those nights when I learnt what regret tasted like

I want to replace that thirst
Scratch that, I don’t want to be thirsty any more

Last night, I woke up to snakes in my bed
(there were never any snakes on that island)
but at 6 am they were plenty around me
& I slithered as well.

That child was a phantom, dead
& you’ll have to pay for this
one day or another
(all that white death spilling out of its tiny mouth)
I felt, not sad, only neglected

Alas, I’ll never be the Queen of Nihilism
& I’ll probably never cross the Mississippi
but last December, I dipped my foot in her current

the water was filthy,
factories polluted the sky

but I’m trying & still I’ll try

& I am not sorry