i’d like to write
books but it seems
like i always end
up cutting holes in them
living in heliocentric daydreams
where aging astronauts
build houses on the sun
to keep the depression
away and there is a fire in my pocket
that would make the
human torch feel jealous
and the fire in my heart is
scenes from a pyromaniac’s
wet dream
a breath
a moment
in a park with Chinese food
in the sunlight
a minute to recover
.
Dear Mr. Brautigan,
i was going to bake
you a cake, but
when i got to
the store.. well
i couldn’t find
the mayonnaise
–Dustin Holland