Hot Tub
I’m underwater.
My hair is stuck in the hot tub’s filter
And the water is burning my face.
I feel little bubbles
Rushing up my cheeks
As I slowly let the air out of my lungs.
Meanwhile all I can do is hope
You’re inside searching
For a pair of scissors.
The Virus, It Spreads
Quietly soaking in the soft blue light from the television,
The comforter ripples in motionless heat from two bodies.
Fingers are curled into fists at their moist hips.
Words aren’t spoken or whispered or even mouthed,
As they betray each other with viral fluids
Obtained from preceding partners.
One in a bathroom stall at Dunkin Donuts
The other in a two-star motel on Rt. 73.
Grandpa's Muffins
Balloons are bizarre
Sometimes I want
To tie a bunch of them
Around my belly and float up
To heaven
And say hi to my grandpa.
One time at his house,
I ate a chocolate chip muffin
That had
One million calories,
No joke.
It was awesome.
I miss him a lot.
Johnny Depp Drinks Coffee and Wants to Hear How I Got To
So I sat there, drinking a scotch with Johnny Depp discussing the underlying messages in Pirates of the Caribbean on top of some hotel that I’ve never heard of in
I was in line to buy some coffee at some extremely expensive Starbucks rip-off, when Mr. Depp himself spilt coffee down my legs as he spun around from the counter. I wasn’t even aware that he drank coffee, or that it was him in line, but somehow we ended up talking about something casual, I forget what about. And from that he invited me to his suite for a few drinks. He said he was having some of his close friends in the area over just to hang out. I figured I’d go because… well, fuck. It’s Johnny Depp. He was a good guy. I guess once he saw that I wasn’t trying to play him like a celebrity, and treated him like some guy who spilt five dollar coffee all over me, he thought I was okay.
Three hours ago I was on a plane from
I.
When summer is here
And mosquitoes want to play
The candles are burned.
II.
We soak our tan skin
In odorized repellent
To keep them away.
III.
Yet somehow they come
Still breaking through the blockade
To access our blood.
IV.
Puncture our weak flesh
With noses like arctic steel
Urging us to scratch.
V.
Then before you know
Bumps arise around the bite;
Medals of honor.
VI.
This way we can say
“It was so buggy last night”
As we sit outside.
Strongly fate was felt. But
A Menace, the Phantom was.
Only made way for
An Attack of Clones
And Revenge so immense
That the lust of control
Conveys only to a new hope…
If the
And The Empire was oppressed,
Then the chance of Return,
Ends with a simple
Control of fate.
