tiny books and booklets
and notebooks and scraps of paper
and bound and unbound pages
everywhere
everywhere
everywhere
what will i ever do with all these writings?
[what will i ever do with this digital equivalent as well?]
tiny books and booklets
and notebooks and scraps of paper
and bound and unbound pages
everywhere
everywhere
everywhere
what will i ever do with all these writings?
[what will i ever do with this digital equivalent as well?]
coffee ice
frozen solid
coffee ice
not very good for the morning
coffee ice
i mean, i love that it’s cold but
one big slab of coffee ice
isn’t made to be drunk
at once
like i usually drink
[maybe today i eat my coffee…]
the american experiment
failed
“happy” 250 years…
writing in a way that felt hard
but turned easy
because i [apparently] have
a lot
to say
[the hj story]
thunderstorms
lighting up the sky
behind the lights of the city
sparking joy in my eyes
and midnight evening’s ending
like i’m actually a
new york city artist
all
the nerves
none
of the control
thinking about
sacred
thinking about
holy
thinking about what these words mean to me
and even more
what songs/books/people/practices
are such
to
me
all-gender bathroom
happy pride wishes
with strangers
[this is a beautiful month
inside a beautiful city]
waiting
[im]patiently for the bagels to arrive
i’m hungry
but more than that
i’m worried i cannot start my day
until i’ve had my sacred little
bagel
cream cheese
coffee
and stardew valley
time of day
wearing black
to mourn a version of america
that has never
existed