I’ve strained everything I’ve ever owned in my life
including my eyes
so I can’t see

your car is gone,
the way life unfolds without interference,
the ant hill I just stepped on,
or your sad smile that one time I didn’t notice the
grinning contingency roses,
contingent on whether or not you
decided earlier in the day
to start shit.

The boxes in the corner,
the cat’s nascent behavioral problems,
the missing incense holder,
the empty toiler paper roll,
the moribund note,
the last piece of vegan toffee,
the ants plotting their revenge in the corner,
the forgotten ice cube on the floor,
your wilting heart,
my feelings about where our stuff should go
(back to Boulder),
the sunset in the distance,
self-will run riot
God’s sweeping fingers,
or
really

further than my nose.

“glasses”

 

 

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