Generations

She goes to sleep at midnight
just like I do,
and the bathing suit she’s trying on
to point out all the things she thinks
are wrong are really everything
that’s perfect in the first place.
Construction in a dirt field with a picture
on a sign of what it could be if we just
left them alone is getting rained on
making everything more difficult.
I try to look at all wires we having running
through the building like its veins
and all the ways in which they’ve frayed
and fallen open like a vine
that’s leaking chlorophyll.
There are way more boring places
you can make it to before you
even gleam something exciting.
Reduced to cardboard cutting
every single box to just make off
with any semblance of a deal.
Cheap plastic bracelets long collected
always weighing down her wrists
while she is searching every corner
of the glass screen with those fractures
at the corner.
Empty dog bowls with names
etched in are everywhere
on the side of the road as if a generation
of hounds was wiped out all for nothing.
Show me the door to this establishment
politely or I will keep on making scenes
that just get more and more annoying
until you throw me out
like I have always wanted.

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