Friday, March 28, 2014


The end of the world came in a balled up
kleenex, the dogs avoid sleep like we do to
stay up and see red Mars fall on our heads and
break our chattering teeth and stab at his
meat with a fork
I fold my hands one hundred times
anxiously in the subway when they watch and
wonder what my mouth is doing or whether my
lips look stupid because any moment I will meet
Her and He will smile on me if only my lips
don't look stupid or if I'm holding my hands right and
I read Him and read Him over and until his words are
nothing and I exist in a receding tunnel and the car is

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