2006 Elida St.
Cups in the yard in the night
stand, it’s been going like this
In the meantime we are space
monkeys. They tell us to hit buttons, they
give us bananas. They even shave our
heads like little space helmets.
Yes we can swim. We are beginning to need
air again. None of that Black Santa uses
front doors shit. I used to slip on it. We can't all sleep on it.
Maybe we oughta be thirty by
now. I notice the times I wear cotton blends
I think about my mother often. Mother, I think of you often.
Look at her. In the couch. She a pool
girl. Don’t know what’s up with this messy ass weather. Lately
my right knee can’t even live here anymore. Miserable
little triad. Some computer Jesus.