Endless succession
Of summer days, persistent
as mosquito bites
Quartz sand covered beach
Snow-birds clogging up the road
For everyone else
Too hot in the sun
Yet too cold in the ocean
Nowhere in between
Life surreal like balmy reflections off stolen mirrors in the night
Mother-in-law suite
Once a car port, oven parks
Under the counter
My neighbors just walk
The slow one carries a knife
And loses his shit
It doesn’t matter
If the name is apt, it’s still
A goofy nickname
That night wasn’t worth
Almost having myself or
The upholst’ry stabbed
Mute heroin ghosts/
Deafening solipsism
Obscures history
Sunken eyes tired
Of always running away,
Always being trapped
Hot crepuscular rays blinding in winter afternoons
The best cure for sleep,
Either too much or too little,
Is always more sleep
Highlight of the week:
A five hundred piece puzzle
That’s Sarasota
Even if every line read better there’s not enough of them
Asyndetic pictures
Of static life traversing
Calendar pages
Permanent struggle between ambition and intimacy
Jean Lange – ugly name,
Suiting of a delusional
Mean old sheltered hag
See Andrew Whiting. Read Andrew writing. 