I lay in the breath of the onlooker
Who curates life as my auntie
Would, with rusted, lonely bottle caps
Driven in the sands of formerly famed parks
But do not let the confinement
Float as assurance that you can just
Pick up a leash from the neighboring aisle
Draw up a lasso and take me on a stroll
Down San Pedro Avenue


My charisma is a dried up rose
So I can’t, in all realism, gather the following
You seek to make the evening news
Snapping your fingers and humming a tune
Legend, Levine, whatever it is
These kids lick lips to when hidden
In the transparency of the Sonic drive through
And solace found in watermelon slush
When the devil awakens three hours ahead

They say I am sweet
Like a brand new car
Your neighbors got before blessed Amy
Texted her boredom at DPS
But like gas prices
Flighty as neurotic brides
I am the headline
That glows and stings



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