to the sea down the road

the best part of me
the good qualities
are hidden in my car’s
glove compartment

amateur self-published
books of poetry that I had
written a few years ago

the passenger sees them
untouched every time
I reach in to grab
my poppy red circle wallet

you read one
while I look out of the window
it’s the best part of me
you don’t understand
why I hide it

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Has it been two weeks! What joy! To not know where the time went! What joy to not know! I’m not eating! I’m starving! I’m still empty!

we all

In front of a computer screen
and present in the past
A man passes by
arms overflowing with bottles of wine
I look back at the computer screen

you pass with nothing
I give the same look unintentionally
Of course
i swear
It’s late spring
my dirty car is
scattered umbrellas
In celebration I bought
a packet of wildflower seeds.
Then, I got a haircut.

remembering

am i attaching myself to the wall
running through the forest
believing that i’m mildly psychic
with a spinning head
and a sweatshirt of tree sap
and cotton
within a haze two uninterested baristas
dressed in black take my order
strutting one foot in front of the other
listening to conversations
running through the forest
placing my happiness on whether or
not he will be bringing someone with him tonight
taking my shoes off and getting in feet first i
into the cold river looking for a stone to place on
my countertop for decoration
I pick the orange
I leave the river
with my head attempting to take in the surroundings
but only remembering

March

clean the house
use apple cider vinegar and an
old cloth
after, walk through every inch
with palo santo
take the recycling out
feel the last round
of cold winter air
pay close attention to the
feel of the rocks
through the black and white
striped socks
this is a different place
there are mountains in the distance
a dog on a wood floor