Beepbeep

I’m watching
“Garden State”

For the
First time

Since 14

Because
It seems like
The most
Millennial
Response

To your
Mom having
Just Died.

—-

Earlier
I was

Eating a
Chocolate bar

And remembered
That

When I was 12,
And I
got my
First period

She Told me:

“You gotta
Eat chocolate
On your period.”

So then I –
– Bawled my
Fucking
Eyes out.

—-

Afterward,

I drove
To parks

I’d never
Been to

By this River
Near my house

Because She –
– Always – used –
– To tell me:

“Go play
Outside.”

—-

“My mom
Just died…

God…it’s
So weird
to say that
out loud.

God um,

My mom
Just died,

And that’s
why I’m
Home.”

-Zach Braff
Garden State, 2004

———————

Grieving


Gives you

So many
Places
To sit

And
Lie down

You never
Would have

Considered
Before.

—-

The floor
Is the oyster
And you
Are the pearl.

Lounge in
Your Developing
Opaqueness
Of mourning

  • All morning.

—-

Let the
Still Monotony
Monopolize
Your
Every pause.

How much
Freezing
In your
Liveliness

Has yet
To Be
Unlocked?

Loom over
Corners
And floors
Of your
Waken life,

Like a sloth
Does
tree branch.

—-

Gaze into
The void of
Each moment.

You Are
the Translucent
Being of Space
And time;

For now,
But not
Forever.

My heart Is a full Glass.

I pour
Over me,

attempt
To empty

Myself.

Laid on
My Side

The sad

overflows
my rib cage;

Suffocating
And stifling
breathe.

My limbs,

Heavily strewn
Channels

Streamed

Across my desk,

The glass

Remains

full.

What Year Is It?

your absence
hungout with me
all weekend.

turned my
blood to spicy
bloody marys,

burned me
like the
sun did.

I am the
lobster.

asking the
amputated limb
if it hurts

is just silly.

the amputee,
maybe sillier.

after you
consent to
cautering
a part of
you off

you don’t
feel it
hurting.

[“its for
the best,”

he said]

the absence,
I hear,
is its own
experience.

A Rippin & A Tearin

My mother
is dying.

so I
bite off
my lips
for not
speaking,

my fingers
bloody
for not
reaching out
more;

drink
the organs
she gave me
stripped
and fatty.

maybe
this time
they will
heal new 

and
those skins
Will know
what to do(?)

Broken Air Bags

My mothers lungs
have transformed
into sponge’d glass

slowly
Filling themselves;

Accumulating
In their bottoms.

suffocation
Slowly creeps
Up her vines

where air
used to live.

it did go
in and out,

i saw it
happen;

dwelling
effortlessly
in her pause.

[but not
anymore]

Slippery

Have you ever
been somewhere

And just thought,

“Oh my god,
I am actually
Losing my mind.

This is what
Releasing
The grip
On sanity

Feels like.”

I just did,

Watching two
[Insanely
Too] attractive
People

be In love
| All over |
Each other.

She took
Her hair
Out of
A bun And

locked tresses
Fell perfectly.

I Keep Forgetting

I left
the teapot
on

not hearing
it whistle

long enough
to burn it
again.

by the time
i remembered

i had to
pry its
hot metal
bottom

from sautered
spiral prison.

hope it
will
forgive me

[salvage
charless tasting
oatmeal water]

For forgetting
about it

while it
killed itself
on burner.

lying
in bed

i hear it
whistling
placebo;

[we could
have ruined
it this time]

A guilt
calloused
melody
of sorrow.

remember

When I
Wrote you
That note?

your grandpa
had just died;

you were
destroyed.

you didn’t
want to see
me then.

that’s when
i knew,

but 
i still
hand-wrote
you
that note
-anyway

in
purple
ink.

it
was an
extended
list of
compliments.

[you could
never take
a compliment]

“your
singing voice
and
how badly
you want to
make
something
with
your hands”

“how
the first time
I was over,

as I left
you said,

‘am I
ever
gonna
see you
again?'”

and then

one day,

after
years 
and years,

you didn’t
deserve
to keep it
anymore

to
occasionally
read
as a
reminder.

so I
stole it
back
from your

special
 
box.

it
lives in
-mine
now.

Acceptance