well shucks

isn’t that what they say?

I’m too tired to cry

and it’s been prodding at my eyes all day.

I have been near

total adherence,

coronation, simple-minded

vibration. I am

separated.





maybe I just don’t have it.

maybe there’s nothing to see,

no goal to reach, nothing to

find out, isolate, quarantine.

maybe today’s not the day, but

I felt so damned upset earlier.

like a child.

tired and overwhelmed.

crying because I just want to rest

and be comfortable.

it’s too hot in this apartment,

and it’s too hot outside,

and there’s no rest for the wicked.

And I don’t want to ask my roommate what’s

up with the AC. I don’t want to hit a pressure point,

I don’t want to hit on something that might be

a bit of a dealbreaker, a reason to leave.

but I can barely think in here, much less breathe.

I don’t want to create more work for her, I don’t want to be

a nuisance. I don’t know where I got this idea that I am,

but I have a sickening sense that I’ve had it this whole time.

so here I am

sweating on my bed

worrying about how much noise I’m making

feeling simultaneously alone and like a nuisance

afraid to ask simple questions, oh, I’ll just do it

tomorrow. next time for sure!





annoying. a source of nothing but

exasperation and contempt.

setting off smoke alarms.





the place that contains the list of the containers of words