pluto's depression
Let's take my debt and your debt
and combine it. It would be the color
of a boardwalk moonstone,
cheap and unafraid.
It would have the same scent
as our sheets. You scathe,
I scathe around you
in the shape of the lake.
You have to walk yourself out
of someone else's guilt.
You have to draw a new door
over the old one to leave.
I write money, money, money
until I smell it on my hands.
Later, anvil was the word
that I was searching for.
____
itself
What I'm in, it started
in the middle
it got my attention
and returned me back.
A piece of it lodged in me
a piece of me lodged in its mechanics
entranced by repetition
white violets drawn on cotton
in the dead of morning.
Almost in the room of its
jealousy, the cradled
ocelot it's made me
not fast at all but frantic
to be not near itself
