Everything Is Bothering Me

 

 

My therapist says

I remind her of Woody Allen

It sounds like something

out of a Woody Allen movie

a little peach-colored and rich

 

*

 

All my friends say baby

don’t go to work tomorrow

I go home quietly

wake up and go to work

I can do it forever

 

*

 

We tried to see the meteor shower

from a cliff spit Bourbon

out of flasks at the moon

you said you’d never disrupt space

I said hell I own it

 

*

 

Everything flesh-covered

colored in flesh

my sunken stomach

some billowy clouds

 

*

 

I am trying to sleep alone

you are doing whatever

I swear to God I know people

they live on the internet

they are the best

 

*

 

The hills are large yellow dogs

trees on the mountains

turn to moss I wonder how

beneath me kitchen tiles

move quickly into next week

 

*

 

The street is quiet

for some reason

and someone is throwing up

maybe the ants

or the sunrise or the pavement

 

*

 

Dawn is foggy

an infinite blue stomach

a child

learning the function

of a verb

 

*

 

We are losing a war against

three-tiered houses they sink

their claws into the hill and bite

None of the right gods

will have me

 

*

 

Chorus of how you are

like milk or the shiver

of a little butter in a frying pan

 

*

 

I stalk buildings for you

like one word shoving another

I wait at a bar in the desert

drink three glasses

of yellow beer

 

*

 

I double as a canvas

for lit-up seeds

boys like fat brushstrokes

up close

they are grotesque

 

*

 

You ask me to cross the river

in the middle of the night

It occurs to me

the river

is roughly the size of your dick

 

*

 

In some non-western myths

it is possible

for a woman to become a god

what I can do is give a good hug

open up what’s in a pill

 

*

 

So I can be more present

I am getting emails on my phone

there are other places

ways of living

we have ruled them out

 

*

 

Advertisements are suddenly

not beautiful

I scrub my house

I let it get late

 

*

 

I’ve thought heavily

about the apocalypse

since I was eight years old but

I’ve never considered strategy except

to smoke cigarettes and wait