I ate a whole cookie cake
by myself on the night of
the day after the Day of the Dead.
There is a ten dollar bill burning
in the cup holder of a Toyota Tacoma,
but no robbers will report myself.
Bought tickets to see Bon Iver
by myself in Miami next year,
hoping Skinny Love will find me.
I hate Florida, but always find myself
back here/there bitching about the weather,
so I hope my daughter goes to Smith or Brown.
Drowning in pools of blood of other lives,
I rely too much on irony and poetry,
circumnavigating wonder and uncertainty.
Armed with precious failure,
I breathe in the song of myself,
and sing tomorrow loudly.