There’s a kind of transformation / That can happen on any day

          Green, how I want you green.
                                                             —Lorca

I am sorry I let you down
I was writing this poem
In the middle of everything
The way they wanted it 

Man in an Easter suit
Leans into me
To kiss me

But I am not in the mood for that
I turn and cough
I am desirable

It says 1921 in the picture
And I am smiling
But it’s not me anymore
Or maybe it never was

Morning walking is like a hospital room
The getting up and feeling sorry for sleep
Putting my fat body into a cab and going to the hospital

 

What is going to happen
Is that it’s going to rain
Rain my love

What is between us
Is an orange flower

And it is blooming and blooming

When I hear sweet songs I think of you
I don’t know why, but I do
When I hear sweet songs I think of you

All types of porn are horrific
I just watched a woman fuck a hired hand
In her marble kitchen while her friends looked on

Today when I was walking 
I had a man tell me as he passed 
That I was a white bitch (he was white) 

It’s a lonely world
Hi everybody
It’s Dorothea, Dorothea Lasky

  I had been sitting in a lovesick fog, waiting to see Ari Aster’s Hereditary, ever since I first heard about it. I don’t usually follow new movie releases too closely, but I found out about the movie back in January, when people at the Sundance…