i thought about the wicker bar
heavy rain i pine for
used to set my birthday as my PIN
red string, cork board, tacks: it's the place i'm in
i thought about the school's rules of which i had no clue:
to cross my legs when i sat down
and move across the hallway when september comes around
it came around: can i please come around?
and i thought about that painting
primary colours splashed over corrugated card
it looked quite hard
and i thought about my bust mitral valve
it pumps forty-two million times, year round
and i suppose i broke my heart in a literal sense
back row kings, benched
and i wondered if i still had the chance to spout my defiance to the skies
dukakis tanked; lost track and tread
i was broke but i'm on the mend
the shape i'll leave when i'm gone will not stand without me
that empty shell will collapse on itself

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