St. Petersburg in June. These annual pilgrimages bring me back to the city of my birth, back to the White nights – a peculiarly indeterminant condition, a confusion of time and space…
Ryanair’s stuffed plane was about to take off from Berlin. Mira was devastated by the window. He was pushing his way through, greeting the passengers and flight attendants like they were old…
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
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
Again in space
Bird, the bird.
Could write of fucking.
Dreary, heavy.
Each gesture
Flesh’s / signals.
GANGSTER.
Hadn’t I been?
It is some time since I have been
JUST FRIENDS
In a mo, you will be transported
to a civic amphitheater bedraped in rainbow flags
where a thirteen-year-old chanteuse will sing cumbia
I’ve been keeping the quarter-full can of caffeine-free diet cola
Ma left in my refrigerator four weeks ago,
visiting from the chicken farm
Lo, the color of my mustache,
chestnut-shell with flecks of gold-leaf,
signaling to the world I take myself too
everythingly. Lo,