"trashbags" poems
driving through wet canyons
searching for meaning
and chocolate cake
howling and snapping
the fog rolls in
too specific to be a dream
too absurd to be real
a contained hysteria
forged through loneliness
and exasperation
everything is red and blue and yellow
and the diner closes early on sundays
underpasses and trashbags
gritty and ugly
conversations bombastic
short lived
while the rain drips lazy
and the fog sinks lower
racing across town lines
clamoring for cheap fills because
one was not enough
my eyes cannot focus
and she soon leaves
but we have to come back
and we come back to
creep through the hills
and the fog descends
choking the empty spaces
and i sit grinning
terrified as the
night ends with these
fake
houses on a solitary
hill and the fog
still rolling
rolling
down
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
Your things have been bagged, sitting in my closet for nearly
three weeks
theres still the pictures
the polaroids of you
of us
easter with your mom
most days im fine without you
it doesnt mean i dont worry for you though
for how everything is changing for you
i hope you're doing alright
cause im not gonna ask
we decided its better that way right?
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 3:04 PM UTC
last night i drank an entire bottle of wine
and fell asleep before i could even make it out the door
woke up face down in the middle of my room
and my clothes are in trashbags, piled in the corner
and i’m listening to ella fitzgerald and shes singing about you
i swear to god she’s singing about you
and i havent watered my plants in a while
but the neighbors promised to make it rain once a week
and i’m looking up mood ring charts so i can tell you how i feel
how should i feel?
when i’m leaving you behind
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
Trashbags
At seven he had already moved more times than the total number of years he had been on this Earth
And this time, like the times before it, he moved with his belongings in a trashbag. Stolen clothes, stolen belongings.
A suitcase, at least, would have added a small degree of dignity, and confidence to the whole affair - to being "placed" in another and another and yet another foster home before reaching 3rd grade
Trash Bags break, you know
Trash Bags can't possibly support the contents of any life, and certainly not a life as fragile as this
Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 12:22 AM UTC