1.14.23 - "Lo Tiene Todo"

Crumbs of Brioche drizzle on the hardwood

Post-epiphany, the sun now has a voice

Tartan robe ajar, the coffee rises and hisses

and spills along itself before I cease its torture

Freezing water on my bare back makes sense

squeal and hurry - I rush to today with love

and with haste and with zero tolerance for waste

Forty three dollar blueberry wine

Two dollars for six apples, set me free

The 27 club hasn’t claimed anyone it shouldn’t have

Death loves to remind humanity of gratitude

Wash your face slow

The deterioration of the trees sound like Monk or a monk

Burning my throat, I plot on how to master imagination then only see my face - a face like when truth meets a rumor for the first time - a face that changes every so often

Language based, nails bit, clean fingers

Leaving gold on the nightstand because tomorrow weighs too much to hoard dust

return me to the domino table under the unfinished garage

Where my grandmother waited for tips from winnings

-for every time she called her pale baby “negro” out of a warm, warm, warm love I’ve never felt elsewhere