There is a water column
in my spine, calling to a
more flexible time, when
I smiled a lot less like the Glasgow boys
and didn’t mark subway stations
on my knees like a map for my body
and all the people I have been, and the
places I have seen, a time I was keen.
I cannot now
remember a time when
I didn’t cut cute white boy writer types
at very first sight, with love and with smiles
sometimes, where did you love
when you loved last?
is something I no longer ask.
“Pick your poison, ocean, or air,
truth or dare”
And focus on Netflix.