Everything changes. What a stupid a sentence.
How presumptuous. The flowers wilt downward,
I have my tongue spread out like a fucking dog
Because the seasons. Because my Dad is dead.
Because the sun doesn’t stick around much,
And the moon is much worse to rely on. Because
Because. Everything is in a ridiculous set of motion
And I can hardly keep up. I’m complaining. Here’s my wrist,
Now slap it. I’ll get a kick from it. I’ll forget about this.
Not for long. Sorry, we’re back. Ugly wilting orchid in a vase,
Perched pristinely by the place I write these parse words.
What a damn sentence. Everything’s changed.
No going back. Damn.
Anthony Aguero is a queer writer in Los Angeles, CA. His work has appeared, or will appear, in the Carve Magazine, Rhino Poetry, Cathexis Northwest Press, 14 Poems, Redivider Journal, Maudlin House, and others.
Image: “Hidden Vault Question Mark Question Mark” by Nicole Monroe
Pine Hills Review 