observations: i see things and then i think things about them
from my notes across many months
nearing the edge of someone else’s hometown
i see four vultures roosting
wonder if maybe red beaks could be kinder
wonder if blood could change it’s hue to be softer
twin linens
adorned with wilted flowers
that’s how i got tangled up in you
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a telephone wire drapes into a noose from above my head, inches in front of my face while on another walk. i laugh quietly to myself, thinking, “it’d still be sort of funny if i did it”. sometimes the absurdity of putting my own death wish to bed is enough to humble my ego.
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glanced into the cemetery
a stone fawn sits stoic with a halved ear
can’t be indestructible without grace
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33 month intervals of rinsing and repeating and rinsing
in the form of crying at the hamilton honda dealership for the second time
commitment issues
but the type where i’d keep eating paste if you told me it would hold me together
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anywhere can hold my home
all of my overcoats hang by knives on telephone poles
anywhere can hold my home
there are pockets of my oxygen I strategically have left
behind in the last seven cities i’ve been to
anywhere, please, anywhere-
I will beg for the permanence and
I will settle for the static
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an oil spill of gold stars sneaks between the bricks beneath my feet as I continue walking. someone dropped a bag of theirs, unknowingly, or emptied their pockets, leaving behind the promise of a night one can see through. the light is anyone’s for the taking.
I think of the saddest landscape and I think that you should, too.
Excerpt from The Little Prince by Antoine De Saint-Exupéry