home

 a car parked in a puddle this morning. empty meters of space buttress it, and I wonder if it’s lonely. Or if its tires are soggy. If it’ll grow hungry and send its courier to the pumps ‘cross the pavement. 

I’m horny after a good shit. Ready to be filled again, i guess. My vagina softens into wider, longer space. My anus warms from below. Feels roomy in my jeans, and my lower back stipples with a taste for satisfaction. 

two older white men yelled across the street to each other. i passed between them. “It never ends, John!” 

Bathroom linoleum pressed my knees flat swiping accretions from the porcelain near hours ago. Took an aged toothbrush from beneath the sink to the rings of green at its base. Diluted the stains of feces with a soaked brush. Read that a toilet isn’t clean until you re-caulk it but thought if you wish for gloves, you’re cleaning it well enough.

The man across the table wears rings on both his ring fingers. Plain and gunmetal finished. I like to think he’s married to a man and a woman. That they each have claim to a hand and only receive hugs on that side.