I want to be a crab cake
because I like tall buildings
perpendicular to highways,
penthouse balconies
thirty meter diving platforms.
whenever in San Fran,
i pancake my hands together
so i don't do impromptu Physics
eyeballing skyscrapers.
I want to be a crab cake
because I like tornado sirens
at two in the morning,
someone fetal position mouthwash drunk
in the bed next to me.
whenever in Birmingham,
i listen to my headphones;
tinnitus a siren wail
long after the flight home.
I want to be a crab cake
because I like bridge collapses;
infrastructure devastation
west of Florida,
killing all granola exports.
whenever in Portland,
i waitlist college signs
and estimate the weight limit
of a commuter bridge.
I want to be a crab cake
because the sunsets here
give me panic attacks.
it used to not,
but enough honey has built up
so bees swarm the bonnet
whenever there's a
blood orange tint.
I want to be a crab cake
because I don't like
the seafood here
or Sushi Pier discussions
of future trajectories
while rain pours on our
trout marinated in
Tahoe Tessie **** water.
I want to be a crab cake
because the mountains
bug me out.
i want flat land
where there are
blood prints on highways,
broken families in Tornado Valley,
and remains of promising bridges.
i want to be a crab cake
because i want the world
to eat me up.
um, yeah, poetry.