to Folsom Prison, with Love

Enough with your cherry dice
heart shaped ice cubes,
66’ cadillac,
dita von teese’s couch
 Enough with the smiths
And how you found them first
Expensive stolen red wine lipstick
black leather inconsiderations,
with the wrong kind of bars
Glamorous chain smoking
In paris,

You only smoke here when I ask

When i first saw bladerunner at the italian cinema i thought that i would hate it
You have a cause,
a calling,
a purpose,
a credit card that never seems to run dry
With no job,
In spite of the third cartilage piercing appointment
this semester
I’ve never quite treaded lightly enough around you
For your liking
No flair for the unexpected
No interest
in a laugh,
a cheap drink,
a screaming match,

a Long drive
I just don’t like it here, I’m better when I’m away
You’re not truly yourself unless
you’re somewhere like milan
Enough with milan
a bath in budapest you didn’t pay for
With champagne you don’t even like
You’ll never understand me
why would I want to understand someone
Who turns down perfectly disgusting chardonnay,
Night After
goddamn night

I no longer Do Adore her

Scented candles never masked
Cigarette burns in my father’s couch,
stained sink, broken lock
We used to call hers
Sometimes ours
And the near rotten hydrangeas I almost bought for Sierra at work
Never saw her husband’s living room
When turkish royals were always prioritized
uninspiring (rather inexpensive) pinot noir for 1, prioritized
or someone else less important
not my cocaine arrived unknowingly,
My disapproval but a distant wind I only hear about
In other poems
Where muddy waters suggest short term adoration
a household of morals,
moscow seltzer, swept floor,
hotel aspirations,
to complain wouldn’t do any good
I’ve grown quite accustomed
to her unknowingly residing in a blizzard
Too bad i’m the one awake to clean it the next afternoon
In hungover peace
Less than zero
And transparent weakness
that would have
made me cry if i watched
the right movie the night before