goodbye humankind! sorry if i let you spoil
you were rotting on the vine
sunday night i watched a barkeep cry
into the bosom of the lady who sells roses
she tucks the stems into her belt
five dollars does each wilted flower cost
i think she was crying because we killed all the centaurs
jason polan died yesterday
and my friend got hit by a car this morning
i assume he was picking up a bag of cold lettuce before work
(he's ok, but send him flowers)
life is rare
intricate
delicate
dangerous
polan died at thirty seven
he drew every single person in new york city.
afterward they all had a little get together.
someone said "may you now
get to draw
all of heaven."
one day our friends will start dying
not from heroin or suicide
but by natural causes
we won't be able to finish puzzles we start
before they get too sick
it happens fast
we will have to wait til we're driving away
to start crying into the steering wheel.
because we don't want them to see tear one
we don't want them to bear that
particularly wet cross
we'll have to do a lot of traveling
we have to help them see all the things
that they wanted to see.
do ghosts feel like they're missing out?
if i had a little bit of cancer
could she have a little less?
i'll pinch it off like taffy
at one point we won't be able to tell
if our friend is going to ever get better
and then we will know that they aren't
in lieu of flowers the family asks for sympathisers
to get colon cancer screenings
which may be the loveliest thing i've heard in a while
a goose cramp is a sudden involuntary muscle contraction
it occurs during a great deal of kissing
it's also the word for when it's an hour past the hour
you'd have to fall asleep to get nine hours of it
because it slipped past your teeth
a fried bay leaf is the nervous anticipation
of an email or phone call
which you know will hold either good or bad news but not both
a lopsided oyster is when you need to hand-deliver
something to a friend but don't have the time
you don't want to dehumanize them
but you start to consider
sending it postally
because mostly (most-a-ly)
you just want it over with
it's also the name for the really fun game
where you slide your library books
under the bed and forget about them
but give them sidelong glances
and a sigh
when you catch them in the corner of your eye