“I Already Forgot About Tomorrow”
You’ll be proud of my fortunate beeswax
I stare at you for a thousand hours
and how leaks to me
tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
we’ll part in endless sorrow
and hold to grasp this locket always
for photographs of beating hearts
and your frosty lipstick
bound to the tip of each throb
and though the frogs may mock us
devilish goose: your shadow hands
and noises in the garden
to bend your scepters
to walk away from a house on fire
down lonely alleys
in streaked jester masks
itchy hangnails
quaking thighs ready to spring
or ribbit, for ribs of some shame
call collect to the beast of you
torn silhouettes for lost marksmanship
for every flower a terrible meow
lemons spent infinite darkness.
nicholauspatnaude 