I don’t look much like my mother
But I know my kid
will look just like me.
With eyes that gleam
and razor teeth,
And Jordan 1s
on two little feet.
I’m impatient
and passive-aggressive
compulsive
obsessive
But mostly poetic
I’m whatever I’ve seen
on a movie screen
I grew up banging
on a pinball machine
I spent a lifetime
trying to wake up
and be mean.
But I will
never
believe
That I belong to the side
with the guillotine.
(You should eat the rich
Even if that includes mе)
I still run
on gasoline
But my insides
are gooеy
Like gelatine
I’ve got:
1. Cellophane in the place of a windowpane
2. A mixtape where I used to keep my brain
3. Daydreams running like an Amtrak train
I’m sunbathing in the door of an aeroplane.
Imagine if I weren’t always busy all the time.
I would love to get a tan line
and call you from a landline
and maybe
hold
your
hand,
crash-land
In a land mine.