April 15th, 2020



After the dance I kept quiet for a long time. A storm came and I was coatless. I took the alley to the museum but did not go in. I’d seen the moss in nooks no one bothered and crabgrass and cinderblocks and chair parts where everyone lives but us. The main bird chants and the faint bird mocks back. It’s my mind, christ, the leaking between them.

My minds compete lightly in a footrace and I win least of all. A knotted stocking just like mine hung from a branch. I had been ridiculous all day. Not a coward.