Not that I am losing my grip: I am just tired of summer.
Your reach for a shirt in a drawer and the day is wasted.
If only winter were here for snow to smother
all these streets, these humans; but first, the blasted
green. I would sleep in my clothes or just pluck a borrowed
book, while what’s left of the year’s slack rhythm,
like a dog abandoning its blind owner,
crosses the road at the usual zebra. Freedom
is when you forget the spelling of the tyrant’s name
and your mouth’s saliva is sweeter than Persian pie,
and though your brain is wrung tight as the horn of a ram
nothing drops from your pale-blue eye.
it sucks how the US “provides” for its people but only so far as it can get credit for providing without actually trying to be progressive. the US is that kid in class who the teacher knows is at least kind of smart but only ever turns in the most basic shit and answers questions but never seems to rly care
backspacing in texts to shorten words because you want it to look a certain way