Rochester
We walked across the bridge to Genesee
but didn’t walk into the brewery.
Then we walked further, a little later,
a mile down the endless dock above
the lake. We ate the same breakfast
two days in a row. I needed a break
from work and another dull birth
day. It was selfish, I know. That four
hour drive into a simpler time
across the hungry sea.
The Mass Marketing Email Says We Will Miss You After I Smash That Unsubscribe Link
Bye-bye blue beaches underneath a copywriter’s fingertips!
I am feeling filthy enough typing my own contributions
to the downfall of everything. The keyboard sounds
juicy if you just listen. Zesty. Squishing lemons.
Releasing shift’s a loud clicker. A double jump
for a healthier life, somersaulting upwards,
get jacked! I wish there were a supplement
to supplant my depression. They will
keep trying. I am alive enough
to receive burnt-out transmissions.
Home
I whistle in the neighborhood shade
where pennies shimmer on the sidewalk,
stars. I could call this home forever–
or as long as anything lasts. Nothing
thrills me more than you, I know,
wherever we go. To speak of my dream
of leaving for a state of bluegrass
and bourbon– a place to start anew
and air is sweet with a little kick–
I want to come home
to another home where trumpets blare
and the cabinets are full of angel hair,
where I can open the window at night.
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