there was red lighted door two doors down from the house
where she left a note for me in her underwear
that I found as I slipped them off
the note said “stay out super late”
it said I lived in a fake empire
that I was half-awake

I crutched the city
turned the bus-stop over with my hands
there was one minute and ten minutes
there was my friends scattered across any distances
people reaching into their pockets as if it would never mean anything again
there was a gay boy with a black eye who gave me the softest kiss I ever had
there were bell systems, gun shots, seven and nineteen minutes
a woman who looked younger than she is up in her room with her plants
an unknown musical organism pissing on public trash cans

her parents were lovely in how obvious they loved her

there was a woman with a big ass in a short skirt
and a tattoo on her thick left sky
mostly I was alone out there so I brought the big dictionary I bought at costco with me
pictures of people I used to know in a wicker basket
two and fifteen minutes
homemade camper shells and new friend love businesses
I went down with all the same things I always thought

tail fin

professional-like