eczema scratch 

dead skin with eczema scratches and thoughts of enemies and enemas in a world where uber drivers deliver lukewarm food where the sky was white now it’s an ocean of clouds that resemble the arcade game characters you grew up with – 

 

I am reading Romantic Dogs on a bus where a two women are talking about how much they hate their children – 

the keys in my bag chime against coins – my mind drifts

to secret languages 

and handshakes we used as kids 

    – those old streets with dog shit and overfilled bins

dirty municipal swimming pools and empty swings –
and now in my ear a song that mentions the Satanic Bible and Steve McQueen 

and Papillon
alone

floating in the sea 

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