4 Micro-aggressions
7/11
My love something
like the fly
against the storefront
glass until death.
You are gone.
Sadie
You didn’t count to 10,
I thought that was unfair.
When you gunned me down,
I lay there shocked and awed.
I didn’t know
We were playing for keeps, Sadie.
Fate
The dead fish
staring forlornly at
the bottom of the aquarium in my
newly divorced,
roach motel room
with the meaningless
hate killing love
on the television.
I stare back at
the dead fish
unsure of why my life is
trying to fucking murder me.
Forecast For Tomorrow
Those painful cockroach
thoughts that crawl their
way through musty cracks.
The apartment stinks of
yesterday’s laundry &
yesterday’s love.
I walk these streetlamp streets,
try to will the winter back to me
but it’s the rainy season and
everywhere is
wet shit & just
no good
at all.