i come home late like a man
like a stranger // zebra-headed & foreign & sit
down at the table to write poems cos i want to
put my key in the door & keen
& cry for my flat old places
fall asleep on the keyboard
& reblog the universe fuck
with my long sad dick every last utensil
put on whiskey & strip
in the garden, have an irksome & scritchy
fight with next door’s pets // eat & vom the flowers
flowering on my face the face of
my stupidness today
listen:
i sing when i work & i work all the time
with lovely wifi & a sharp clean sharpie
& my big girl knickers all in a twist
around my throat. i have drawn you
a face to wear & it is my face & it hurts
me. but whatever comes you’ve come
thru the door & in your own
face with your job & a bag of food –
o bum! o joy! o bloated world!
what dreams i am on the stairs of!
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