am I different than this… picking apart tendencies and seeing where the similarities lie between generation, between ground and sky how do I zag where you zig? how can I thrive where you stagnate? am I different than this… I can only sleep in now when it’s raining at dawn because…

went axe throwing for the first time… it was that or bowling and I didn’t feel like putting on clown shoes… was a bit nervous — had just watched several fails on tiktok of people throwing bad and slicing their damn legs… guess if you throw it wrong, the thing can bounce back…

books in a bin so many in the queue can’t read them as fast as I buy ’em and yet I still want more wanna borrow more want to smell them more want to feel their lovely weight in my hand… some days you want a light skinny one — finish…

I think I’ve seen all the malls here and maybe all the diners too the drivers are a little too insane, especially around the holidays, the cold crunch is getting to me… the bookstores and coffee shops and libraries can only keep me distracted for so long — their solace is…

oh my god leave me alone please, just let the air cleanse itself of sound… my attention is not to be hijacked at your every whim… I’d like to have an afternoon of nothingness, of some kind of internal bliss, of sacred unperturbedness my thoughts, they gurgle — I need Pepto for…

poem + a Scuzzbucket message — the apple pie looks really good and I can’t wait for all of us to eat it maybe with ice cream on top, I think vanilla would be good I’ll go with you to get a tree on Saturday and maybe we’ll play some Scrabble at some point — I…

is that part of the script — what they tell you to say to get sad people to buy in? does your cadence always change when there’s money to be made, or customers to be had? you have the hyperarticulation of a swindler, peddling infant-directed speech at hard-working but struggling adults… did…

see these scars across my chest, I was pushed off a roof, by accident… I don’t blame them, to this day, I cannot blame them, poor armadillo, didn’t see me coming… curved glass blocks in my cozy apartment building overlooking silicon prairie, sputnik was in ’57 not ’58… but now it’s 1983 and…

someone once told me that solid preparation makes all the difference — if you make it happen in your head first, practice over and over, rehearse, say it in your sleep — then you’re golden, right? but I’m not looking to be crystal clean-cut gleaming… I’m not seeking perfection anymore —…