they are we
floating through space
dandelion spores
pretending to be roses
we’ll visit one day
thank the only person
who gave us bus fare
to the firing squad
before the 11th-hour reprieve
we’ll think of you, fondly
forgetting the years we promised
tell ourselves
to violins and piano tinctures
“thoughts & prayers”
no one would show
but did we?
did we sit and sip, and wait
for your life story
after the long, vexing preamble
hurry the fuck up and turn on the air!
pennies on the dime
in the five or more checkout line
for a carton of skim milk
I lost the question
along the way
to find myself
in the moment
we are saved
at gunpoint
when thoughts and prayers
become life itself
it’s cancer
ah, but it’s ramen
the last stop to freedom
it’s chance
when memory becomes everything
it’s all we have
we mean to
but we are liars
waiting out our
death sentence
with convincing alibis
that never happened
watching glory from afar
wishing we had the courage
to turn and bend, and change
to be as different
as we say
“hi, mom, how have you been?
tell me the part where you won $5,000 in the slots,
I have time…”