pheromones on fleek

today we smell spring

hey you it’s pheromone season.
it’s unzip my chest and stock it with champagne season replace
my heart with red orange venus season it’s omg he he she season
it’s where’s my favorite dress i’ve got lips that like that
spot beneath your ear season.

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post valentine’s day

concerning the heart

on monday mornings i do high intensity interval training workouts
to feel good about the rate of my heart beat.

i also make pancakes and try to avoid anger when
the first one doesn’t flip with grace.
sometimes i shape them into breakfast hearts.

i heard someone on the radio say being alive is being sad
so i held pancake in my mouth for a moment and
concentrated on the sound of my heart.

traffic ain’t so bad

rubber necking

i prefer rubbing. necking.
bedlam in backseats
coitus on earth, on cruise
stoplight skin tangled in tires
man made and making man
making it     making heads
turn, roll passengers howl
bumpers melt until stuck—
one big road jam, dark
and spreading.

on death

where milk and honey flows

fast forward to the sex scene and watch it twice. make pancakes all week. forget about potholes. rinse your dishes. be topless and dust shelves. kill ego. find it again. sit next to someone much older than you. call upper management just to check in. google phobias. make an unattractive scrapbook. go to home depot and walk down the aisles. get angry at jars that won’t open. drop them on the floor. cry about the jars. give your eyes screen burn. wonder about architecture. wonder about coding. watch someone chew bread, spread butter. eat baltimore—or eat your city. use the word rapture. remind yourself: we are dying.

instead of my day job

hello february

i think 2016 likes me
i am trying out lavender as a scent for my neck and wrists
split me open, spill the contents of january onto the floor:
-immunity b/c of ginger and hot water,
-my cat blinking slow into sleep,
-licked yogurt foil,
-a chunk of dark lipstick.

my grandpa died in december
my grandma still walks the hallway to his bedroom each morning,
to check on him, compare dreams

i eat sherbet and cry because 14 cows
died during the blizzard – crushed by a barn roof.