11/29

appointment reminder

i'm scheduling the hairs on my arms
to grow. weeds in my father's yard
ask the important questions like
"when are we going to burn the system
to the ground?" i tell the grass
this week i have to let the doctor
tell me not to worry about fingernails 
& ginko trees. in a parallel world
i am revolutionary. my blood
is made of pewter & pledges. i rush out
into the street & free all the lamp posts.
here, in my real life,
i have less & less allegiances. right now  
all i trust is the color grey
& the space between your breasts.
i will inevitably forget
but that is why metal birds exist.
i open my phone which is slowly
becoming a diety. my device plans out 
the next hundred years without me.
date & time can get me through 
most mornings. a calendar nailed
to a tree on walnut street. 
the reminder says, "we require 
your body." i think "good take it!"
when the day is over there will be
more tin foil hats to knit
with future children. there will be
a bed for us to make puppets in.
i will still need to find a place
to store the jars of noise stolen
from that one night we shouted
into the bare winter forest.
don't worry. i confirm the future
or is that just a knot in a balloon?
have you seen these new screens?
a mirror without the mirror
opens blossom-like. tomorrow
is a distance i measure in leaves. 

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