Tuesday second second

it was a Tuesday maybe
she was leaving the country hey
for almost a year, spoke about
a different land, place,
spoke of smoking, how she hated
second hand smoking
i told her she’d get used to it
told her not to worry,
10 months of exposure
would not give her cancer
but hey, maybe I say that more to myself than, anybody else
you talk about nicotine, old lovers who still
live in your chest
in your lungs
between your ribs
not much room in there for else
you look so young, and I look so old
i had a dream where I
let you come back in bed
i have dreams where I let everything slide
except remember there are two
you and you
if you put me on a hill of rolling
wild flowers and grassy hair
i will let you set fire to it
and burn out these edges
and my best friend shall cough everyday
she is in Japan and maybe you won’t, and you won’t, and I won’t but she will get cancer

Tuesday second second

Tourist

and that night, she grated her face upon a palm tree

cause mama pays special heed to splinters and spines

stumbles on a bus home

gets on for free, takes lots of pictures

imagines she could kill the world over, and over, and over, like turning

soil and replanting

and that night, she lied about everything

she imagines she could lie herself to a different place

stumbles back on pavement, wonders what a car feels like

if it could take her to space.

to ocean. and that night, she knows you are following her

and that night, she screams at traffic lights,

because she knows she’s gonna die

and that night, she just says hurry, hurry, hurry

get it over with, i’m tired of the slow creeping

just fucking split me open to bitumen, bleed me out,

try and love me with your choker hold,

try not to love me at all, try not love making corpses out of me

and that night, she watches boys in the distance

playing football under stage lights

remembers running for her life

being taught

to love, being hated

 

 

Tourist