poetry

Keep away from drugs.
Don’t go near the crazy neighbor.
The drugs can burn your eyes out,
and he might stab your dog

I have only ever left this planet once
in a billow of thistles
after snorting meth amphetamine
in an abandoned record store
in Hollywood, birds settling
into the window sills

The story exaggerates. She never thought to ask
that her plates be cast of gold. It was the wind
cutting through the cabin that made her ask
for the house. Her poor husband—always
in danger—hardly protected on land or at sea.

I want to live long enough to outlive my mother
so she never learns of the needles hidden throughout my apartment
the way she once hid money from herself
for times when she didn’t work enough
and I pray if she ever learns

Why not act indulgent and reckless for once?

An oarsman floats on a weightless scull.
Salt in the low marshes. Sunbathers smoke something strong.