feeling my skull from the inside.
sandy sadness is closer than it appears in mirrors.
what to do when you've run out of red?
keep mowing the lawn.
and hope the VCR gets fixed.
keep mornings shitty.
so afternoons don't seem so bad.
keep poetry in your pocket.
so she has a place to go.
and I have a place.
to visit.
feeling my stomach bones.
burn the vomit towel out back.
before the wolves come looking for lost love.
and find nothing then eat anything that moves.
keep bleeding, she says.
my only time with her hands.
is under water.
so the red I see is not the sea.
suck the moon.
and make my nest.
one more chance to get it right.
one more chance to get it right.