Sitting, pretty, on the edge of our aphelion,
eating unseen forces like curds and whey.
In goes a galaxy, rolling underneath my tongue,
shrieking and dissolving fast; a tasty display.
Wash it down celestially with pure electron water.
Knife into dark energy, a savory filet.
Suck deep on a sour eclipse and giggle at the stir,
dip candied kings in quasar oil,
you want this one?
After we’re full,
we contemplate beginnings and the end;
I’ll fold today like a receipt,
don’t need that in my head.
I love talking to strangers.
And running with scissors.
If you jump right off of the bridge, so will I.
I love me in the mirror.
Angling at my self-worship.
Speciously, faithfully, generously applied.
It would be a privilege
To die in my twenties.
God, what an awful long time I’ve been alive.
I am a Knight
Riding out in my armor.
Justice awakens its full ice cube eyes.
From Cup after cup.
Sick in the morning.
The doctor prescribes
More poetry, then I may
Lie in my bed;
Head ringed with asphodel, rainflowers, and smiles.
The latter are coming from a smirking cypress.
Swords caught in its branches;
One, two, three, try.
Seventeen magic wands.
Who could need so many?
I grasp them with seventeen hands
While I cry.