we sit
and look at each other
and eat
and tell stories
and pass the time
until the day is over

white gloves
for a non-existent life

plum-haired girl walked
in a bubble of music
above cars hurdling at 80
she hopped the curb
and touched back down to Earth

beep
beep
beep
beep
beep
beep
beep

it’s a delicate moment
between sleep and awake
at 2 am in the morning

a crack under the closet door
the blackest of black
demons reside there
my monsters reside there
so I stare at it
from the edge of my bed
willing them to not turn the knob

the thousand year old boy
is 374 miles under the Earth
in a space the size of a bathtub
he used to be one of us
breathing this dust-free air
now he digs further down
pushing the debris above him
his body is all but rock now
as he gets closer to the core
more of him melts
but he continues
soon he will be a puddle
and he will harden and stop

warm, thick and windy
the ocean and the desert
have come over the mountains
the smell of yellow grass
all culminates into weirdness
fitting this long awaited day

my room is cold
and there is no heater

the most wonderful daydream
being close to inconsequential
just one of the pals
but you can depend on her
and you like to spend time with her
go out for a raucous evening
dolled up and grinning and comfy
she talks to strangers and you
big network of loose acquaintances
always someone to fill up space
but there’s always the core few
and they’re meaningless in the world
she’s just getting along
everyone’s just getting along
not struggling, but not soaring
it’s so inconsequential
it can’t be the most wonderful