the need for aged buildings
i keep taking baths here like we’re allowed it.
the excess, i mean. the trouble.
at night, a bonehouse.
i think bitter or whipping.
i think sorry, cobblestone octopus.
i mean, really, how could we,
for real. we were freeways.
there were teenagers.
there are so many teenagers, beat-up or trying to
be home, remember?
brick, that stalwart brocade.
the way dirt is in winter.
or that one day in that one car at the bakery.
bread, too, is good for a place.
we were endless.
the sky looked like our mother.
it was always morning & always cold.
the weather here is quiet.
there are fewer birds on barbed wire.
you can stare at the ocean until language.
i make my baths so hot they hurt to get in.