For some reason I got up really early this morning, like when my alarm clock first went off — crazy crazy crazy crazy — and I had a bit of time before I went to work. On an unrelated note, I’m very thirsty.

“The Morning of My Forgoten Loves”

This is the morning
of my forgotten loves,
blown like
bright soap bubbles
out, out and away
to pop
and dissipate.

They have left me
like rain from
a cloud,
scattered
in muddy puddles
and runoff.

This is the morning
of my old forgotten loves,
none quite half-beautiful
or fit to
wear the throne,
but all rainbow bubble,
hot breath and
dishsoap.

But you rest like
a brick in my pocket,
and I think,
better a brick than a
bubble.

You can’t start
building a house with
soap suds.

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