Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends


i haven’t the first clue
as to how to be in a room with you

you seem busy dying
as you lick your eyes upon the futon
trying to breathe our air
an awkward semi terrestrial

my warm blooded instincts tell me
to run and fetch a bowl of water
in which i could submerge you
while carrying you back
to the safety of a pond
or some other fitting sanctuary

but you’re not my animal
and who the fuck am i
to question natural selection

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