things I wrote during lunch this week

the hollywood sign

laughs at me as I speed, di-

sheveled, down Sunset


low-pile carpet burns

my knees when I’m down on them,

not that you would care.


the THREE of them they

hold me hostage with anti-

cipationĀ and want.


I’m still embarrassed,

that thing I said to you that

you don’t remember.


you touched me in those

dark sweet places butĀ it was

just a midnight dream.


the thing on my desk

it says GRIEVANCE in all caps;

I think about sex.


give me three minutes

and 17 syllables

I’ll tell you what’s what.