a map of yesterday & last year 

i've been curtain frolicking.
now you see me & now the living room
is severed in two. i'm stealing ice cream
from god tonight & not caring
what his plans were for it.
a great party is being postponed again.
the boy with the flute is queer
& i love him so i dm him on instagram 
but he never responds. how does anyone
find the right angel? i have tried
harvesting feathers from 
the graveyard. my dog's teeth fall out
one by one. i'm saving them
to construct a backup dog.
the machine knows my name now 
so i walk the supermarket with 
a black bag over my head, 
feeling the apples to make sure
they're good & glossy.
the execution was seamless. no one
noticed a thing. winter dries 
my heart out into an apricot thumb.
how long do frogs sleep? gnats?
the rash always forms in the shape
of pennsylvania. little geographic
reminder. nothing is real 
but especially not states.
a cake in the shape of rhode island 
arrives on my back door step
& i enjoy it with a tiny spoon.
birds are singing in a dead chimney. 
i make an extra place setting 
for the bear i'm afraid of.
he sits down & eats with perfect manners.
here's my grandmother
coiled like a metal spring 
in the living room. i tell he
i need my own space-- that i'm not
that kind of grand child.
she leaves dolls on every shelf. 
i've taken to bathing 
in boiling pots of water.
tuck my knees in like
the other eggs.
the tub is full of oranges anyway.
when you arrive, will you 
check on this mirage?
shake me like a tube of sand.
there's a gold ring somewhere
i'll be stepping through
to make an exit. 
tell jupiter i'm sorry. tell the backdoor
the cake was delicious.