See, I’m too stupid to write a poem. 
Remember when I said this, that afternoon by the lake 
in our purple & yellow short shorts,

His breath smells like spliff and orange juice and peanut butter. It’s delicious.

Levi’s High

My moods as blue 
as these lake hues
Ass still looks hot in this
double denim though,
so fuck yous 

Swatting flies
On my thighs 
in the desert
Amor

Bouchon

Steak

At last, I texted him the truth: I have bipolar disorder. I’m in a hypomanic episode. I’m really not feeling well, I can’t stop crying. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry...

Revelers in various stages of undress, semi-dress, drag and fetishistic extravagance frolicked, tripping out on the music and their collective naughtiness.

Miming a poetic revenge mambo

That’s when she asked me if you were still part of our family.

I watched the Fassbinder film.. half in English, half in German..

I had no doubt my husband’s depression was the authentic article, just as I had no doubt that he used this depression irresponsibly, as leverage, a venal tactic, to flatter himself and defuse criticism and basically get every last fucking thing he wanted.

i am the leader, the captain, the general of my troops, and yet it doesn’t matter much to me whether i win or lose.

It’s impressive, I thought, to meet a person like this, but then if you make an effort to face the world then this is just the kind of thing that happens to you. I wondered if my clever friend was thinking the same.

She underlined the quote, “Anything can happen in life, especially nothing.”

I imagine the letter got stuck somewhere in the desert, and some camel ate it.

 I fell in love at all of sixteen and don’t you say I wasn’t devoted.

My baby’s eyes were brown but you can tell he wishes they were blue

And I don’t see what it matters, but I can see it does

still, there was so much salt
in so many wounds

Among the crowd at Washington Square, a young man holds aloft a slice of cardboard scrawled with permanent marker. It reads simply: I EAT ASS.

My recent ex was extra, but in a way I couldn’t quite explain. Sure, she had all the traits of a malignant narcissist but so does almost everyone I know.

 life got stuck under the wheels and desire’s language smacked into cliché, death came as Chet Baker crooning love, almost blue

You HAVE TO MOVE!

40 Year Milestone

            I had a dream where
I found a way to look at your
Instagram through one of those hilarious
                        Nebulas
            Dreams
Afford, wrapped tightly with a regal

things will get harder before they get easier

I recently started my third year of university. In my first year, I lived in the dorms and got acquainted with the people who just so happened to be experiencing their Firsts at the same

All I have every week is nothing but free time but I won’t tell the twenty-one-year-old that.

People come to you asking how to behave under certain conditions.

In Morocco, a long time ago, I was orphaned.