untitled

Tonight
is a night
to sit on the moon.
Hammock in misty,
hopped edges of gold.
Tongue the stars
until black clouds
envelop the sky.

a!

she says over mock meatballs,
vegetable egg rolls,
sweet and sour sludge:

"...it's a heavy burden -
having the capacity to
return to the past,
while simultaneously
looking to the future...

in case i've missed it:

...this human brain."

cowbuoy-ed bear
catty
foe collar-ed:
proud

wear your sweatshirts

find time to
send images
of baby hippos:
frail

skeletal
purple speckled
guinea rats

remind me
how you wouldn't

ever

put something out there
unless you could
speak it face to face

and for god sake
find me in the hallway
mid-break to dance.