Amateur Poetry Hour

I haven't seen my friends in a while,

and it's time to call the dentist.

I'll run through some bad sitting positions

while the phone settles on a ring.

I'll swat down the hold me and the

I keep having nightmares of my ex, naked...

"Hi, yes it's [REDACTED], birthday: [REDACTED] uhm

two weeks... pain... pus... it's just a little weird?

No, yeah, I've been doing that, but not that...

Ok, I can do that, but like, my gums closed?

Oh... oh man, okay, well, that works then...

Thursday's good, yeah. thank you, have a good one...

On Thursday my dentist's deceivingly deep frown will ask

"What's been going on?"

Then, he'll get in there for himself to find out.

I'll sit instead of jump out of the chair,

into his arms, or try to explain

I tried, I tried, for real this time!

A sheep who was left in solitary,

whose farmer shaved off all that protective wool,

left looking out to view the rest of the flock,

still wooly,

I'd bet he'd melt.

She'd like to meet his friends

to say "you've read the same book,

and you love it too!?"

But, the typical consumer can spoil

a dizzyingly ripe piece of literature

by round-about vomiting up its pages.

Example, she thinks the Stoics are sound?,

but the men that have always played them

are alone, rotting, vindictive.

So? If he evinces himself a shovel,

she'll hopefully have dug a canal - leaving, she'll watch

as him and friends dig graves in Hemingway's Galtur churchyard,

You can get in the pool

but you have to get out.

You could hungrily gulp

till you're bloated and white

but dying is different

than a calm greyish blue.

You can hold someone's hand

but you have to let go.

You could eat your lover

with unsalted butter

but, well, dying is different

than yellow and red.

Killing is selfish, two is better than one and

zero is why love's made of colors not numbers,

I have a weird plant with

water - clean water, sunlight, 70 degrees, and some humidity,

yet it grows unhappy.

It's like leaves got yellow and, you

got concerned and you're right they're brown now

devastatingly quick, can you say "what's wrong?"

It must have been working

all night while you're really into sleep

that's when the light is easiest to see.

Sun, of course, through the window

Green is making coffee the hard way

when you usually have to be remembered.

Those leaves have gotten bigger than

hands stand on vines super tall

reaching for you and already grabbing at the walls.

My world is outside is

inside, clenched fists, palms

Quelqu'un va devoir conduire, i'm tired.

Et ne pries pas pour moi, do something!

I do not want your dashboard god,

I wish god could reach down and dig his knuckle into the knot in my neck

which is another way of saying I miss my dad, he's up there, and I'm down here.

Since value judgements come in tandem, Schrodinger's opposite hiding around the corner,

could I have ever loved my father if I knew he loved me right back?

My universe is so much smaller than I realized, only 17 hours (without traffic)