My feelings? Underwater.
Can’t hear who they are or what they’re saying. Moon on the ocean, moon on the road.
Is that a cop? Maybe.
Moon on the fields. I am blank because I’m blank because I’m blank.
I know I love you when we put down our chopsticks and you push pad thai onto my fork.
I know I love you when you rub my hands across the table.
By the way, I went into the Tupperware, and, happened to all those hundreds? Sour. Another loan. Another emergency.
And the parking lot, yellow lights streaking.
Well I have strong desires too.
Head down, black hat over face.
Well don’t let me stop you.
Gagging our faces with old angry words,
carrying plywood in the dark, kitty meowing, hungry.
I bought beef. Don’t think a bout how long its been sitting in the car.
I feel ugly. Even on the inside. Especially on the inside.
All day. Looking at myself in the mirror at the mall, wanting to change something.
Looking in the vanities in the bathroom aisle.
My sixty dollar slippers hurt. I feel small. They were so beautiful.
Sugar cane rotting smell all over Kahului, like shopping in a giant fart.
Money couterclock down the hole.
Avoiding people in Mana, arranging things in my cart.
No energy for this.
Tripping from one mistake to another, straining to re-orient
at gratitude. Fizzles.
Crickets. Chocolate on my tongue. Wanting, so wanting to appreciate, to bow, but feeling like a balloon that doesn’t know its name.