i would like to see florida before climate change destroys it cooks the wildlife, eats the beaches, i already consider myself a lost cause you are inevitable to me in the same way a sense of destruction, borrowed time before the natural disaster we must be heading towards

i like people to be from towns i can mythologize united states of being i can romanticize i extend our colder california into the desert, let you cover the whole golden coast let the desert extend to texas, give the south some meaning till i taste something sweeter

we have breached the devastating territory now i speak to you from the past still catch myself looking at you like you are already a memory there is only damage control the fondest kind

i can feel the time bomb capsule sealing the future exposé this, another snow globe moment i wonder where you’ll stay?

i have seen a (hopeful) vision of the future on 146th street (9 blocks from the end of the world) (gay husband) lovely wife, a smoke on the walk to the train (some things never change) i took a picture, followed down she plays the guitar i sing i could be 40 somewhere near this

i work my hands into your back, your shoulders and my forearms look like my father’s i am learning to reach for you like a wife and trying to stop looking at you like a memory

Hang on—is that a government-run supermarket selling groceries at cost?!

i’m bound like a river, i keep moving on i hope to see you when i get there but won’t know i’ve made it till i’m gone bound like a river i keep moving forward stuck in the water, stuck in the wheel turning and churning waiting for the banks to change

this is how i picture your town picture i will never see it picture a lackluster existence for myself there motel carpet as far as the eye can see the kind of town you spend your whole life waiting to get out of thinking you’re fine the sodium lights blur night from its afternoon

i wonder if we’ll ever get anywhere if i keep haunting the blood bank going back for more waiting on the corner checking all the tags to see if you’re in there jewel-toned in the little bags waiting to make somebody else feel alive if you recognize a name, it makes it more real

a smile on the corner my photo here the cold wind blows and i’ve outlasted it’s you it’s you still i am the scorned wife

thank god i finally have something not to say i guess i was always better at keeping secrets than i gave credit i’m looking for you in the parking lot the yellow soda light i have been looking back on your memory since we met waiting to hear you say you love me in the palm breeze

and there you are a haircut on the page and it takes me out at the knees your face - i have slowly been constructing a face full of memories somewhere out there the knowledge when i first saw you something in your face reminded me of hers i am trying to remember how it began

watching from the Q I see them sitting by the window salt on your skin your white sheets sticky summer all the way home there you are lit by the window the train, your room, your apartment an hour twenty there you are i’m looking for the beginning do you think it means anything?