poems

[notmeisme]

I need to make this stuff public so I'll become self-aware of it. Any comments appreciated:

An Open Letter to the Everyday

I always miss you,

the missing you, talking (in utero),

standing for something more than a testament

to time-lapse motion, we pointed

and pointed at the unpointable, fuck,

we built a museum, slept in the attic

and let the moth balls turn us on,

we said love, we said talk to you later,

god damn, it was so much more,

so fuck you for not noticing

the way the room walked through us,

the roof sat on our back, there was no gravity,

just gestures, shirts blowing in the wind,

and cart wheels, our hands and feet

growing roots (over) being plucked (and over),

nervous orgasming (with prosthetic others),

for the large celebration, we changed, we played

ourselves, sacrificed a baby carriage, a coffin,

but they bled only symbolic, so we built a cage

full of nails hammered through

to the inside and yelled at the sky

because it was the closest window we could find

to an open ear.