Thursday, January 7

poem that is getting home from work

Pop Songs Are Touching

I am
so many
stupid songs

when I drive
from the exit
back into town

I hear the top ten
and I imagine crying
on a bed in a trailer
behind wendy’s

my heart is a chubby teenager
but instead of worshipping some poster
I think of you in your body
sharing this real comfort

we are easily hugging
between the lamp
and the window