lies i tell myself

if i'm finally beginning to differentiate between the speaker of the poem and myself does that mean my prefrontal cortex is kicking in? two travesti poems & some scattered thoughts & dreams

Cactuses, climate anxiety and some dancing

The city is an endless strip mall and as the multiple lanes on either side gradually slim down into just two, one coming and one going, the flat openness finally begins to make more sense. The empty parking lots and oversized facades of store after store are replaced by the

overworktimeout

(prose poem at The Poetry Project)