by Prophecies In Kodak   Apr 4, 2021

a face i can never keep clean
five jalapeños
the taste of your breath
hot like the juice that melts
off my tired face
working hard to slow down
gasping for air
always coming up
s h o r t

reaching for the top shelf
tiptoes like
i tip tap for you
god must have loved me
(one day)
but then boo hooed the next
giving me hope like a
c a t a l y s t
set to ruin my nature
set to the grain

none of this makes sense
my life is a run on sentence
and i’m all gravy but
not everyone thinks gravy
is good
-we have that
in common-
food grade indecision
i’m the rue people won’t finish
too much flour
soiled and thick
clinging to the edges
like maybe i actually
belong to something
but god is boo hooing
lucky me

i just want to fill
the r e c i p e

i just want
the s e n t e n c e
to come to
a happier end


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