tomorrow night

Tell me something quickly —
I am unable to stop thinking
about the dream that night
where your hands pushed




PLAY on the video camera
while we pushed PLAY on
each other in the room behind
the class.

Falling apart as my nativity

asks you 'why?'
while our naiveté should have pushed
you toward ‘why not?’


I would like to be your season
— reasons
behind reckoning
when you're thinking about

the stupidity of saying ‘okay fine’
and thinking ‘about time’
like you are an alienist
in Russia, since we are nothing but

nonsense around town.
Tell me something good —
dress me down
and slather me up.

Your piano fingers got me
quivering and I
just can’t get

enough.