Before dressing myself this morning,
I made sure to add a dropper full of toxic masculinity into my
molten coffee cup before it had a chance to cool.

Then I pulled all my banal toned clothes out of the dryer,
folded them,
and cried over an expended dryer sheet because all
I can do is look clean and neat,
when I would rather be a colorfest, wrested from
a notion that I can't feel bright, without losing strength.

This is why I cook my own food.
Mend my own clothes,
Dance my own dance,
So, I don't own anyone a **** thing.

Globs of scraggy oogle blorck
Cracked in ebbs of nibble naps

Scrapped in cork and oggled mek

Gorged of mega noogle neck.

Feeling alone.

It's not bad,

Unless you hate yourself.


It feels really bad,

But what's nice...

Is making for people.

TASTY FOOD.

From everything on your pantry shelf.

I'd soaked my sad *** in saline water to see if sins bubble up.

I had had bad noxious knowing notions while wretching up a sip,

A sip of sour, mineral remissings caked on cornered eyes.

Salting, sour corners of mourning lives.


So, instead of feeling something,

I poured molten oatmeal in my bowl this morning,

Just to stay alive, and feel something warm.


After my fifth cup of coffee,

I got bored and stormed out the door to challenge all the

Vagrants at the park to chess to buy a case of ramen noodles.

My cat shivered this morning,

So, I asked her if she's cold.

And my dog had moved a little slower,

And I know he's getting old.

Which is not okay with me,

But life don't work like that.




I made myself some tea, because it was really cold,

And stage a couple of cans on the counter,

While making breakfast, so I can feed my pets.


But after cooking my own food and looking in their eyes.

I cried a little bit and said

I'd rather die than see them sad, because they are my friends.


So, just today, and just because,

I'll share a little bit.



I'd rather share a moment than spend forever feeling bad,

I'd rather give my cat and dog sliver of bacon than see them sad.

I know saturated fats are bad for them, but they're just as bad for me.

I just like to see smile as they smack their lips
when they see that I don't hate then, and include them in my joy.

We only have so many years,
So much money,
So many hours.

So, let's go for a walk.



I'll get you snack when I get paid,
And I'll buy you each a toy.

I found magic in the dirt.

After packing it away, I flirted towards the sunset.

And after fire had been made,

I sat in fire shade and made plans for buried treasure.

I measured my golden pack in the heat of night-made flame,

Blaming only others, I had to pack away my shame.

I found aground about battered chafe a windrow full of hair.

Soaking into the ground was innocent blood caked with despair.

After climbing loads of hills, on skis from a dead Fin.

I found a supply depot where I could fit in.

I found a place in a broken world, placed fried potatoes on a plate.

And after hell had passed me by, I sent myself away.