Sink

Sink

aka Where were they supposed to go after this?

 

Their love

was like a sink

1. another color named by robots
2. something assholes threw unfinished plates of spaghetti in

or crusted bowls of overtly-andante sadness

burnt toast

and jacked up forks

 

Their love was a graffiti torn sink

built to hold history and spoons,

a partially consumed sponge

 

and to once in a while, occasionally, piss in

when it’s late and the world’s too heavy to walk on

and the bathroom is all the way up the stairs

 

don’t judge me!

 

there is a beach in my pocket

where time drinks alone

and the bladder gets circled by sharks

 

so I sink

 

because up the stairs is a long way to travel

when you’re this alone

and the moon insists on poking

 

and you’ve really gotta pee