September 24, 2024

Friday Observations, After the Black Hole

Little soap opera days come and go like Target cashiers:
how many do I have to fuck before I exhaust their ranks?
I am tired of the ubiquities--such as pipe bombs
roaming the streets and homing their hierarchies
at the less-than-thous, archly.
I am tired of the home kits of amyl chemical peels
I must apply, unenthused,
to the tip of my nose for a sense of self-worth.
The morning after pills are Argyles in the windows, saying hi.
Next year we'll sigh and find another semaphore
to signal to maroons
our wet spot within the archipelago.

Posted by Jason at September 24, 2024 02:17 PM
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