i am wrapped
in colors;
thousands of them
each darker than the one
before-
the sky is oppressive
everything is everywhere
i need a tracheotomy
to breathe
i need to travel back roads
lights out, curves enticing
cliff banks
i won’t get too close

Algorithm
Algorithm


i
(think i’ll try
not to)
promise
gravel under tires
maynard serenading death
i’ll cheat again
in my logic-algorithm mind
i tried to figure out the formula
to make this work
he says
we’re too dynamic
to live on algorithms
(i might have paraphrased a bit)
little baby girl
in double digits now
wanders in in pink socks
and an old phish t-shirt
ready for bed
ready for me
to tuck her in
if my car was running now
i’d have to throw away the keys.