Most people fear confusion, but I think confusion is the truth and I seek it out.
What I do in Italy is cry and eat a lot of pasta.
What I do in Italy is look at profiles of people
Who are not my friends
And wish they were
And feel like a stalker.
My father turned off his cuckoo clock.
I want to be back in America
Where I have a lot of friends
But nobody cares that much.
What is it about bathrooms?
The reflective quality of Italian tiles
I sit down and sob.
This toilet doesn’t flush,
I used too much paper since my face was dripping.
I want a golden retriever in my bed
She’s outside in her heated dog house.
Being here is like leaving all your boyfriends at once
Equals being somewhere else already
In your snowy city
Where the only one
Who loves you
Is a cat.
Is hardly proof of greatness.
It’s proof of faulty logic,
I don’t believe in budgets
A foreseen disaster
When there is shortage of money
Which is what happens in this era
That starts now.
I’m less efficient than
a washing machine from the fifties.
This very important thing that I am doing
(You know: horses and cowboys and vikings)
Is really nothing,
Nothing at all.
It’s 1:30 AM
It isn’t late at all back home
But I need to sleep.
This body needs things
I don’t subscribe to.
My mind should learn from this body,
Know when it’s time to let go.
If I could have ridden a dog instead of a horse things would have been different.
#females #loveyoudontloveyou #imgonnakillyou