A styrofoam cup
That was reused all day
For iced coffee
And to kill the environment
“Life in Brooklyn is hell”
But I imagine Buddha
Browsing at Trader Joe’s
And I laugh at the suffering
Past the pasta with funny names,
Copywritten in the ether of time
But just a garbage glimpse in existence.
“Life in Florida is worse”
And I desire to be desired
In this various dream of living
Full of anxious pleasures,
The saints and all that.
There’s no dancer
In my bed for
I am alive with you
Down the street
Down the coast
Down the timeline.
O the seasons of grief
O the moments of relief,
I am simply grateful
Yo still be curious,
Guessing at the horizon
Instead of defeating it.