I love fighting.
brawling.
drawing out the syntax,
collecting arguments,
theory, obsessed
with subjective motive,
inarguable objectivity.
formulas and how
2:2 is not as pretty as
3:3 and how it is quite possible
to roll doubles four times
in a row if you just kind
of think that way.
the predilections of
others and how they
mount them,
ride them.

I am rehearsing smiling
in the mirror.
this is how i go on dates:
1. remind myself to behave.
remember an old flame’s advice:
just be normal,
someone else’s version of
normal, not yours.

2. take drugs.
3. see what happens in between.
with you, i made a pact.
be warm. be warm. be warm. be warm. be warm. be warm.

I am practicing standing still,
waiting, I fidget like
that,
fingers in the dirt,
scoop a stick,
watch a bug,
ask questions,
try not to play with
the straw. deep
breaths. don’t look
at the numbers,
don’t talk about death.
big smile!


and hug people
right when they walk
in the room.

“Honey”

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