I face the hospital bathroom mirror.
My bathroom. My mirror.

I buy too-expensive sunflowers
and let him in on The Plan keep the change.

I grow distant gone unreachable frustrated
with my mother on the phone
and call the feeling cherishing.

I die flip the pancake.

I run to the next town the bath.

Give up directions.

I don’t know exactly what happened to me.
Who put me here with a mud full of mouth,
cool jar of flowering suns, black bread seething on my table.

My name still serves me. I turn around, say
“pass the ketchup,” “thanks but no thanks,”
“empty good morning.”

Once twice three four times
my mind Alka-Seltzered in a cup of abyss.

But look,            nothing :
my key’s click in the lock.
A bird beyond each window.

I deserve to soar fail.

What I’m trying to say is
Mom, mix my chai.
Angel, parachute the sheet, make our bed our bed.
Hello, mewy stray at my ankle, keep it.
Waiter, afternoon for one. I can’t desire.

can’t.

I.