Hot Stuff

Hot stuff in the East Village.
I remember when you used to laugh. 
38 high fives later.
So I steal pictures.

You wanna get lost in me?
I just requested you on Instagram.
and my heart melted. 
I go to Starbucks instead of the pub.

Everything, every thing.
I hear myself chew. 
Donald Trump and airplane hanger bullshit.
Kick the blood out of my face.

Walking for sale. 
Mark Normand. 
A bike chained to bus stop blues.
I would sit on a curb and shop for your hair. 

Collaborations happen.
in red shirt mornings. 
Gnats and bats. 
It helps when I am wrong.