I’M SO AMERICAN,

LIKE AN ICED COLD DRINK

HAVING SEX FOR DINNER 

WHILE BETWEEN 

CHECKS. 

AS THE OUTSIDE 

WORLD 

BEGINS TO SMELL

LIKE SEPTEMBER.

AND I AM REMINDED 

OF A SEPTEMBER DAY, 

FROM A FEW 

SEPTEMBERS 

AGO, 

WHERE A MAN 

ASKED ME 

FOR MY NUMBER, 

STANDING ON 

THE PLATFORM, 

DECIDING 

IT WASN’T A DAY 

I NEEDED TO JUMP.

I TOLD HIM, 

MY NAME 

WAS ANGELA, 

AND I TOLD HIM, 

I HAD A BOYFRIEND. 

THE SEVERED SQUIRREL TAIL 

ON THE SIDEWALK 

WAS ACTUALLY JUST LITTER. 

AND ONLY A 

WEEK AFTER 

THE PIGEON NEST

IN MY SHAFT 

WAS DESTROYED, 

DID THE MOM 

GET KNOCKED UP 

AGAIN, 

TO REALLY GIVE IT 

ANOTHER TRY. 

A  BABY 

WAS BORN, 

ONE THAT ACTUALLY 

MADE IT,

JUST OF FLESH 

AND FEATHER. 

SITTING ON THE UNIT, 

LIKE, 

“YEAH, I GOT THIS”. 

SO I THINK OF 

THINGS 

I HAVEN’T DONE. 

LIKE BEING

IN A MOVING CAR,

COMPLETELY ALONE. 

OR ASKING, 

“are we too fascist 

of a country 

to have sex 

in libraries?”.

WHEN WERE THINGS 

NOT ALWAYS 

A LOSE-LOSE? 

I’M HIGH ENOUGH 

TO GET LOST

IN MY 

NEIGHBORHOOD. 

WHICH MAY CORRELATE 

TO THE FACT 

THAT I STILL 

HAVE DREAMS 

IN MY CHILDHOOD 

HOME.

EVEN THOUGH 

I’VE LIVED MOST OF 

MY LIFE 

OUTSIDE IT. 

BECAUSE WE AVOID 

THAT PLACE 

LIKE HELL,

AND BECAUSE 

I MEAN THAT

WHEN I SAY IT.