and ordering a cookie
and buying only it and champagne yeast.
Are opening a box of Halo
mandarins and falling in love
with the crate and spilling the mandarins
on the floor in the hurry to box up your skull.
Clementines are better anyways, ask Blendo.
Strange moods are cooking listless in friends’ kitchens,
ignoring them. Are writing, and not editing.
Strange moods are drinking bad beer in dry
retaining ponds under citylight, thinking fuck you,
Muscovy geese, and feeling needy, and wondering
how you know they’re called retention ponds,
and why each one is built with a concrete shrine.
Strange moods are praying at those concrete shrines.
