The urgent violence that is honesty
calls me out of a long nap, like a
cat smashed between a row of books
and a wall. If one
describes oneself as
charming? And then ducks back into a
hut, pencils I’m so
frightened of losing?
I used to be sober when I was serious.
The mental capacity to stomach en-
joyment.
That was wild. Slowly
I take each
book out of the bag, stack them on
the table, become a person who wants to
hide his true self.
Nothing is the right way.
Just a smile
to enjoy. The delight
of a mustache
over a drink of cool water.
Shopping
for groceries (frightened of losing).
It’s a shame, this grasping of my red
interior. Nobody’s
mouth to put a
finger on (to shush).
What’s a list for,
anyway?
I appreciate a residential neighborhood
I can call my own.
The ironic beauty of
certain vandalisms. A
capacity for with-
holding evidence. The
smell of a
freshly mown lawn.
It was a narrow escape.
We clutch our
hearts. Enjoy the walk. Enjoy the ride.
