I wrote these poems midwaitressing. while asking would you like a cup or bowl of avo coco soup? or what a about a hot marinara or almond alfredo we all are equally lost by the amount of choices in life even in this small restaurant blazery and we vanish together into a silence that is unforgiving. At that moment I waft away from the tables and write small dreams that attempt with the greatest of intention to escape the walls of service labor and baloney smiles that breed ruthless schizophrenia. Just like Madam Bovary on her deathbed I am turning green from too much talk of cucumber dip and the ambien I downed the evening before. Here, we are all villains in a pretend world of interaction. No one is a friend here. We work in restaurants, we eat for comfort, and we hate each other.   I write poetry (it's a giant secret.)  

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rich everglade 

dusty red  

rouge tongues  

hibernating 

together in silver blankets   

 **   

horse lipped and dry-eyed I come to the reservoir 

knuckle me down like your companion  

we watch the water rotate like a pendulum.

 **   

hire me into your eyes 

nosebleed 

gaping tooth  

shipments, canisters 

of dung hearts  

packaged away in the freezer, 

waiting for hundreds of years  

waiting to be reborn in a world less cruel.   

 **   

walnut bones  

catastrophic titles    

** 

retarded your bluff reddens  

we are in swamp territory  

thick muddy glaciers are your forehead, orange whiskers are my teeth  

luminescent hunger is my horse ancestry

knawing is my mother  

** 

the right to hum'

almond cream breath

body born in flux

territory:open

snowflake eyes

reverberating like

a gutter.

**