Sunday, July 5, 2015

Where am I?

Where am I?
Like, yeah, no, like becoming some first times.
You know.
You know the inadequacy, our shared experience,
where you, like, know what you want, yeah, no,
and I know, too.
You, a mystery, infusing me with nuclear fuel,
like Iran, illegal according to some,
but so powerful to us locals, so legal, so impossible to deny.

And Wacky Am I

And now wacky am I, I thank you, mother, for the days I take no pill; the oak table that folds upon itself, a hinge, a turn, a hidden b...