Poetry – Page 27 – zakschafer.com

cat eats breakfast while i drink coffee and listen to music and cycle thymic’ly

the girl with long black hair draws for me and from me

the census woman came to your door and she seemed a bit nervous and you wanted to cry

perhaps what you thought to be your creativity was really just caffeine

i eat cheesesteak in a box Chevy to say thank you to black people in urban centers who save America even though America continues to want them dead

i mock my friends and alone laugh by myself

who needs exercise when there’s the hammer-jack trackstar heart of panic?

my man is 41 and addicted to drugs and i saw him waiting out the rain under an awning

i smell of creosote which makes me uneasy yet no less magic

vacuum sealer is loud on an otherwise distant Sunday morning

the suggested tears i borrow from the pig on my plate

the hops in the tea make it bitter and you worry you might break the chair

writing emails to musicians i like

feigning disappointment during pandemic

hanging; lights in the moon

life is for losers

a strip club waitress brings me lemon balm from her garden

too timid to wave, it is for practice that i live on island

a ritual of empty cups

i run out of milk; hopeful, i go to the store

sorrow sounds romantic but really it’s just joy

i leave the door open so the nervous cat can eat without choking on its panic

macaroni, cheese, ice cream, and drive home

in forgetting its form, ego compares itself to lake and feels inadequate

no one sits next to you on the bus because you look too lonely