#thisconnection

this year
everyone seems to somehow
reason
that ‘they can’t cancel spring’
having no clue who ‘they’ is
i can only assume
it’s not you

anxiety tightens around
my neck ornately
like the curly cord
of an old telephone

spontaneously combusting
my organs
on the edge of erupting
crawl orderly
each in their own
sack of glue

the moon is a mouth
these days
swallowing fears
related to the possibility of a future
but mostly
she hides and keeps to herself

a transgressive narrative
rem sleep
glows more potently than
unencumbered
relating to oneself

and all the while,
every morning,
my phone recites
something i’m struggling
not to forget

‘you can force a feeling into being
just as much as you can force a blind man
into seeing ‘

dial
disconnect
schedule the alarm
reset