sanama

you’ll go through a stranger’s dream

plain ice is what you’ll see

next to the mailbox monday’s delivery

milkmilkmilk

––

father is once again wearing glitter on the cheekbones

and if on a day of carnival one is late to the delayed bus

––

outside freezes and is drunk despite sun

spritz despite february

and is drunk

in nebulousness is enough salt for life

salt as if in manic runner’s sweat drops

now we talk not of weather

not of plans

for planning will begin later later in may

and drunk

––

drunkenness  is  the  state  of  modern  emailing  where  every  message  finds  their  recipient  in  the  glory  of  their  lives

on the days of milkmilkmilk