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Sunday, March 27, 2022

King Friday with every one other accompanied by the Land of Make Believe

This may not exist the hour dated to provide this,

But I’m not while good while you hope I’ll be.

When we’re inside a underground passage with every one other accompanied by I’m driving

I’m sure it would seem imaginary,

When I inquire to untruth on your floor

I really want to say—

“Can I remain with every one other accompanied by watch you

Chop up greenish onions?”

You’re better than me,

I don’t know if you at some time heard me speak that.

On your phone you keep

A painting of the anthropoid brain.

When your father was deep-frying a turkey

Your mother told me to retain playing music.

Maybe now I eventually know what deep affection is—

Taking pictures while your canine wears glasses,

Trying to report what stuffing should taste like.

In my friend’s basement

You gave everyone Polaroids of themselves,

Then we laughed at a poster of the anthropoid body.

And this is the small portion where I sit on your couch

And watch you teach your friend merengue.

This is where I try

To stop myself from smiling

And I hope Trolley doesn’t show up

To tell me it’s hour dated to go home.


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Truth hurts! Nothing is perfect, life is messy. Relationship are complex. Outcomes are uncertain, people are irrational.


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