Monday, March 27, 2017


The wind whipped in through your windows. Your apartment is a nest atop the branches of echo park. Your underwear in my mouth. I have nothing to say. I have nothing to say

Thursday, March 9, 2017

an explosive tree

how even my fingers are tired and you
had oatmeal in your bathtub
birds chattering by your windows above echo park
a breeze pushing in
and the everly brothers singing something about kissing someone or something

when you said what i said
you have this knack for remembering things i said
and they're things i liked once saying
like a pleasurable radio station
you told me a story about your hawaiian cousin leaning out of the minivan window on hollywood blvd asking people on the sidewalks
what that star say?