From my apartment I can look down

Into a construction pit

Until it gets filled

Into a foundation

 Everything around me that rises

Seems to also have a negative

Underneath it

  I have a negative too

William Corgan is a machine Staffed by a single person Who seems to not like anyone

I am a machine too I might say “What does liking anyone matter” Not everyone would like me Just as not everyone likes William

I’ve sometimes thought he would like me But then I always think I can beat the odds Every single time This is a flaw I have

I found a juicer on the street and look — I took it home It was on the curb in Gowanus With a sign that said “Works” All the parts baggied

I hauled the box on the train with me Now I just drink juice Foamy with nutrients I bang my head And insist

Some days I believe in things so strongly That it hurts me to say it Because William, I’m not afraid of commitment Of singular focus Of things down to their essences This happens more and more as I get older And as my sense of self grows

It applies to superficial things too I can move from feeling unhappy With my leg bigness Or whatever To neutral To fine

Things happen subtly with time

William Corgan faces changes every day too He also looks into his palace Of mirrors and sees The slow glacier of his face Somehow at once still And moving downward

I like everything about nostalgia And I feel like he might, too

I like to look back at the nineties When he was a grown man And I was a little girl

There are changes That separate everyone From the events we all look back on nostalgically These changes are huge and noticeable And chemical Irreversible

Then there are changes we don’t even notice happening The maze changes shape behind us As we look forward