It seems

it seems,
hopping from calamity to calamity,

you came to edmonton.

how was it?

i don't know,
you said you liked it here

there was concern around your eyes

wrinkles of despair, laughter, sex, the incredulous squint

deployed against bad arguments and grudges

other expressions you are keeping to yourself,

paths encrypted, cut

in this alluvial outstretching

i'm in those wrinkles

maybe somewhere just a bit

and sorry

i guess.

heart disease

you are a thing.

you are a thing?

yes, you are a thing.

a thing among things

a thing in association with things

in a world where

there are not

very many things

no,

cold brick walls at sunset,

the colour yellow,

every time turning left into oncoming traffic

every laugh expressed as a series of staccato inhalations,

every thought of existential permanence

all aspirations thereto

hard won front splits

your flavour of spontaneity

a measured conservatism

rejecting stagnators like bad organs.

that perfume you used to wear

a thing,

a thing among things

every regretted cigarette

burns just a bit too long

your dad's dark, sunken eyes

unhappiness, happiness

heart, heart disease

a distended heart cupped in green gloves

most trips to the dictionary,

whenever it gets too much

even the slightest desire to masturbate

you are a thing