I forget how to write
poetry
—Ariana Reines
I must have made some moves
yesterday. The
party-host’s smooch-
friend, the one we met at the under-
wear party. What year
is this?
It’s always so hard to tell.
There are
sucking sounds nearby.
Is it the cat
cleaning herself?
No. One of these things
is not like the other.
Arguing voices, but
not the usual, the high-pitched Latina.
Maybe it’s just a debate. Are they debating
the sucking sounds, what they really are?
It is so quiet in our apartment. Half of me
is in Oakland. So
quiet. Even the
sucking sounds, which are now
something like sq
ueaking beds.
