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Shiftless
The wind makes a salad Of the countryside & we still refuse To learn each other’s last names. You get What you pay-what-you-can for, is all. Love Is not the thief love is still choosing to sleep In the house the night after the thief Has robbed it. Money burning A hole in my tip jar. My kiltered love Like a window AC leaking off A second-floor sill. Almost everything I can touch is an artifact I will have wanted To’ve preserved as proof it all happened Just this way. Sweet family meal—wave Me down, however many seconds It takes, the quiet Mississippi between Them. Definition of prayer: let the perfect be The memory of the good. If all you Have is scissors, everything looks like It’s hanging by a thread. Our days, these Peonies are so brief & bound as fists. When everyone shuts it down is when We clock in. All explorers must die of heartbreak.