Somewhere between Columbus and Los Angeles
Somewhere between episodes of Euphoria
The ecstatic chat at after-midnight porch hangs
Ariana Grande’s wide brim hat circles the whole
World—wait, let me back track: 7 days ago I held
Becky’s newborn in my double wide mitts a full 20
Seconds before the panic attacked.
Everything is happening and I’m not okay.
I’m in a metal can atop the atmosphere.
This would be a metaphor if it wasn’t.
There’s everything inside my skin and then
There’s everything else. I’m afraid
Of unribboning because it’s already happening.
Someday, not. The baby grown won’t know
I learned how to hold her head. The word is
I wasn’t prepared for the dance remix
Of Summertime Sadness to begin it’s throb
From the speakers onstage but words came
Anyway. My friends cheered from the table.
I came, spiritually. I got that I got that I got that
The scary moments, the ones to live for,
They don’t care. I care so much
I tell you to shut up. I tell you to go to bed.
I tell you to stop coming on to me.
I tell you I’m a garbage person lol.
I tell you it doesn’t matter. I tell you
I love that the show has an omniscient
Narrator, but she’s also a character. That
Must be so difficult to pull off! Instead of,
Come over. Instead of please and thank you.
Instead of The queso in this chips and queso
Is thick with a mother’s disappointments.
You can be the mother of so many things.
The only thing I want to leave to the world
Is words. S-s-s-summertime. Summertime.
Get in my mouth and stay there. I want to feel
Your shuddering release. I like to know
It’s not just me. I like to pull you off. I tell you
From the porch that I used to call my cousin
“A scurvy bitch” because I thought it was
A pirate term that meant something like “gross”
Because the unribboning of your laughter. Because
That clap from the crowd. Because of the handshake
Of voices in harmony. Because there’s my body,
And then there’s your body, I once wrote in an office
Five years ago. I couldn’t have seen today
And wouldn’t want to. Yes, I want to be a product of
My time. Yes, I’m a fan of quoting old work
In new work because this is the one and only
Space where I can do anything I fucking want.
I appreciate the sound a machine makes
When you have decided to think of me. I can’t
Say I miss you back. Not even here. The limit
Does not exist, and then