that song in all
of its many incarnations has always haunted me:
simple enough, I suppose, & yet
it’s like, is that lesson even possible?
WHAT WILL BECOME OF US?

my heart decays into rosedust
every day when I think
of how far away you are,
how impossible my happiness,
how incomprehensible
      this very earth,
how long until

stars flutter into cinnamon
and nutmeg
and cumin

someday we’ll learn
to say goodbye
again

Arise at unholy hour,
Skip shower and meals
Dress up in 19th century winter
regalia and carol on historic Main Street

Freeze my toes off
Return to my cozy home,
and feel for a moment as though
I don’t have a care in the world:

Until we meet again, Saturday.

sometimes,
when I’m feeling especially
inspired (or especially
empty),
I will sleep backwards on my bed,
with my feet at the headboard
and my head at the other end.

I have now done this
the past two nights.

of the snow?
or the Michigan?
the fall decay peeking out
from under a very thin layer of purewhite…
the snowflakes meandering like a gentle conversation…
at least there isn’t a beautiful streetlamp.
that would just make it too perfect.
or exactly like the poem I wrote two years ago
you’ll be here soon enough

you are so hipster…
the glasses,
the macbook…
#otherstuf
I bet you’re gonna go eat some edamame

you just hate me because of my hashtags
don’t hate me for being a hipster,
hate me for being beautiful
besides,