Relied on the possibility of hangover
induced telepathy
Left your house in the morning and thought God
damn it, I should have made an omelet
Sipped calamity through a straw and become indifferent
to evil
Stood next to a well-dressed Wall Street Standard and chanted
ruin
Broken a name down to its parts such as Bushwick, Bellview, Springfield
or Schulkill
Sat on the shore of something immense and thought
there is always something grander and missing
Written a love-letter in a dream using words only from the Anglo-Saxon
and the fantastical
Woken up startled and on a train 50 feet underground and six
Boroughs from home
Or spent four days scheming of ways to get locked inside a museum
“for a good time,” but abandoned the project after seeing prophetic, profane and prohibitory
writing on a bathroom wall
Then you know what I’m talking about
–Juan Pedro Lamata