in which I pass out reading Danielle Chelosky’s ‘Pregaming Grief’
I dip my body in a paint that makes rain cry.
Alcohol is a warden.
I read re-predicted nonfiction.
I miss
my mom
with god
with god
I miss
my mom.
What if all I’ve taught my children is how
to love me.
I want to touch all the writers
in the places
numbed
by what
they read.
I watch that one movie where you pretend to be
disabled
poor
my smarter
brother.
Possessed by return
god
is unbearable.
Imaginary
bombs
imagine.
kingsoftrain 
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