Audio: Read by the author.
The world today
is slowcore,
a rhythm section
dragging.
At the moment
I drag and solo
in a bitten landscape,
torn vowels
that sound out vowel
or sadness like glitter
sprinkled in a mind.
A sun-slashed parking lot,
thinking a poem
stalled
in the broken
surround.
See the chubby kid dazed,
his spilled bike,
more debris,
CVS in the distance.
Remember me
to convenience stores.
I saw this too
every life of my day
yet I ate, I had money,
and a car.
