Monday, October 3, 2016

Hydration only comes
in the form of the nervous water
that is coffee.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

Plunge the clear plastic dish tray into the soapy water
and the whole thing becomes a glass bottom boat.
Cup, saucer and spoon reef down below.

Press the button and wait for the smoke.
A tiny tendril like a chimney in the distance.

Lately I've been feeling a lot like a lost piece of clothing,
stuck between the bed and the wall
Collecting dust.

3 comments:

grinning mouths said...

Hey, Erin. I recently came across an old box full of art supplies and have cautiously begun doodling again for the hell of it - ironically enough I draw better now then I did as a teenager. Anyway, let me know if you would benefit from a West Coast pick-me-up - I am certain that I can create a mixtape and a half-dozen stickers for old-times sake.

I hope you are doing well, despite everything.
- A.

grinning mouths said...

Hello Erin,

It is good to hear from you again. I am glad you are doing well. I am still living on the West Coast but moved about two years ago to the Coachella Valley (yes, **that** Coachella Valley - don't ask.) Things are excellent here, to be perfectly honest, and I am very grateful. I will include more in my letter/mixtape/care package, if indeed our correspondence makes it that far.

It seems like we've had several false starts in the past. Let's make this one happen, Erin. How does that sound?

Let me know if you still have my phone number - it hasn't changed in eight years.

- A.

Rude Punjabi said...

Where have you been, please come back.