psst: I have a little book of poetry out. You can get it here.
If you bought a copy already- thank you, I love you.
Lately: knowledge that smothers
Also: something you can hold—an irresistible object—I knew it, knock yourself out, blah blah blah
I don’t know how long we can go on pretending, how we deny each other’s presence. Every day. we find excuses not to look at ourselves or the death that surrounds, the suffering we fund.
Eating a cannoli in bed at 8 am like the disgusting little pig that I am
Bleeding. thank GOD.
A useless, tragic continuity
Aren’t we lucky? we never have to pause
I pray we do, I pray someone makes us stop
In the face of doom what warms the heart?
a text from my sister, Ali Mortada’s voice, ideas enduring
the concept of sacrifice.
He says: your face, your body, your teeth
and I say: those are the teeth of someone whose parents could not afford braces
I ruin worship, I’m no fun, even at arms length
Still hot at the end of the world, what a demented meaningless privilege
When someone asks what I was doing when it all went dark, my answer will be ridiculous. so will yours.
assured Western humiliation. We will not escape clown diagnosis.
time to bring the plants inside
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certified clowns since our inception baby!! usa usa usa (my hopelessness sees your hopelessness and feels held)