
congealed bacon
i googled white nationalism—
flashes of congealed bacon
you play the tragic heroine
toothy femme fatale
dont judge my painting
until i finish my ropa vieja
dont cut your hair
before tinting it blue
i fix you a tongue on rye
my marbles gather dust
we wait for slide guitar solos
on an unmoored pontoon bridge
in darkness your voice
has the timbre of rime
the choice you say—love
love
is love

What I’m Reading:
“If you punch the universe, it punches right back.”
— Zach Weinersmith / Science: Abridged Beyond the Point of Usefulness