Watch movies about daughters who killed their fathers,
you are obsessed with paintings that are crude words written in children’s crayons,

and your wife exhausts you,
you can’t stand how
her shoes match her gardening sheers,

your house is intentionally or unintentionally patriotic
red doors, blue shutters, white vinyl,
hey I’m successfully sedated,
it’s so much easier this way,

I don't even have to drink scotch to fall asleep by 10,
"at least I don't have to pay women to **** me,"
I was proud of you for that one,

everyone tells you "I’m one of the good ones,"
chairs set in an illuminati triangle around the dinner table,
you ask your daughter how school was, she says
"spectacular," the poison trailing from her mouth to
the carpet to your loafers,

cameras everywhere,
through the window,
through the drapes
your wife is on a dinner date with your boss,
your wife is in a motel with your boss,
your wife just wanted to **** a powerful man for once,

you sell me **** in your garage,
my dad sent me to an institution but I fall in love so easily,
I watch your daughter in a shadow on the lawn at 11pm,
I convince your daughter not to **** you,
convince her to run away instead,

hours of film of small private lives,
the glare from the window pane
not enough to obscure how embarrassing people are,
but I love you for this,
the best footage being
inanimate objects dancing in the wind,
it’s proof I think of forces in the world
we don’t recognize at first til we feel them,
then we can’t stop recognizing them,
then we can’t stop trying to get them back,
then we spend our whole lives in pursuit,
of that evasive silent lightning strike,
moments before a kiss from a beautiful sad girl,
how it hurt a very specific part of our chests,
but like in a good way;
like in the best way possible.