222 Readings | 1 Rating


One night I stepped outside my life,

My casita, my blonde wig, my breasts,

my hopes, my scars, my everything,

To look up the stars (sorry, but it’s true).

There were aliens spaceships everywhere;

They looked like stars but moved erratically.

The whole night sky was full of light.

After a few minutes, I realized they weren’t

Doing anything new, and my phone

Takes shitty pictures in the dark, so I came back in

To your snoring, to your man hands by your side,

To your practical underwear and your Star Wars t-shirt.

The blankets were too heavy on top of me

And the darkness a little too dark. Maybe

It’s too late for us, I thought. Too late

For a Molger shelf unit in birch, a plant wall,

A kallax nightstand, a LACK: Ikea doesn’t

Want us. It’s too late for career ladders, for

Expensive tools, homeopathic anything,

For shiny cars, for yoga-cations, Bed, Bath and Beyond,

For Christmas cards, for christenings, for statement

Necklaces, for Italian leather shoes-

We get slim can slits on our fingers, dollar store

Dishsoap, what we deserve:

Shards of hard Irish Spring, unwaxed floss,

This internet we stole.


Two weeks later I had a dream I was abducted.

I woke up curious, not afraid.

I woke up wanting to drive up up up

To Taos where I have trouble breathing,

Where there is one vegan restaurant

And beets shining up on every plate.

Posted 05/31/17
Comments (0)
Would you like to leave a comment on this profile? Join Ink Node for a free account, or sign in if you are already a member.