I didn’t mean to make you into a robot said the furniture
On a morning where
The far distant factories resemble rotted molars beneath a fuscous sky
And the cat
Coils its thick comma in my lap as I drink black java that is friendly, that is certified.
Relationships are never a straightforward
Gargle with Listerine but require realignments of the chassis and idiolects
On an irregularly scheduled basis.
What’s this business of being in love as if unless we always feel
Like crawling inside each others’
Gut buckets and whistling Figaro the contract to compost together is somehow void.
It’s been a while since
I was elated said the futon to the self-cleaning oven and welcome
To depression could be the reply
Or hello adulthood though there are crows twisting back to the river like wily
Licorice Niblets and you don’t really want to jeté
Over the balcony do you knowing precisely how long it took for them to cart away
The stained mattress
Left at the intersection of Lovers’ Lane & Lost Lagoon.