Suspicious Glitches

poetry that pairs well with the apocalypse and a nice merlot

Just Ask Next Time, That’s All

So, this is solitary
Hazel
Dilapidated, dewy eyes
That bruise easily
 
Used to recognize dust in the
cracks
of new hardwood
Even the roach finds herself
turned off, bewildered
 
Mass-produced dead
smiles hum along to the dishwasher,
no
 
Still I find
crystalline necessities in
your canopies and filth, find
in your intimidation the slightest
form of
battery
 
Stain your glass with my toothpaste
Extra white
Sensitive
 
Cheer on with arches
Exchange 237 thumbprint recognitions for damage
that fills the holes it creates
 
How uniform and moody every
righteous melody must
be
Scaling octaves and Pop-Tarts in
foil-wrapped condominiums
 
How solitary every shower
that cries on command
 
New bruises and bedroom views
Mostly green
 
Sometimes blue
 
How complete the
vanishing
How nefarious the absence
 
Bicycles, supposedly, are
inclined to stay
upright.

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