Blue by Becca Yenser

I like the blue cold gelcaps,

Blue as an ocean,

If an ocean could be combed clean,

Fat as a beluga whale, no waist,

Nothin’, just a shape equally

Thick at both ends, no taper.

I like my pillow a certain way,

Feathers lifting the thoracic vertebra,

Tents and bears and campfires.

In my dreams I take a train through

Europe, I own a farm with Nick Cave,

My dog is alive again, mid-river.

This is not what I meant to say.

The president is shooting holes

Through my bedsheet. Why are

you laughing? In the morning

I’m a foot soldier in slippers;

Taking word arrows to the skull.

There is no end to the way the

World will end.

Oh my god, to be asleep

In a sea of crushed blue whatevers..

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