Platonic Poetry

Walk to work

The moon was still high
up in the sky this morning.
Big flip of the bird.

Just me and some cars.
A speed camera,
AKA
Everyone faceless.

Self-pleasuring

Girl touches something furry.
Feel implicated
beyond voyeurism or

Me masturbating
On the ceiling a spider
Waiting for something.

Mean

It’s not serious
A boner in a heartbeat
could be romantic.

And a baby in
a pink puffer jacket could
mean emphysema.

Hangover

My head feels heavy.
A pet rock to take swimming.
Full of bad ideas.

I tweeted about:
The oven and an apple
as “a very small head”

Renting

‘I am living here,’
I said in my best cockroach
as he walked inside

‘Turn off the light,’
he said in his best human.
I climbed into bed.

Best friend

You smoke daisy chains.
A non-sequitur allows
distance from the heat.

Check extreme violence
toward those who would hurt you
Soak in your colour.

Notifications (1)

Read to the effect
the notes, likes, comments roll in
in a poetry book

Will not believe
a static feed
will consume regurgitated [sic]

No television

Catch water in hands
standing out of direct stream
while showing.

Television is
one of those things that belongs
to my parents age.

Available exit

Incorporated
flight-steward arm-move for your
exit strategy.

Next available
exit is to my left (me)
It’s also your left.

My room

Want to shift my heart
just to see what it feels like
a bit to the right.

There are sounds upstairs.
Someone moving furniture,
move me to the right.

Collage by Hannah Gartside. Contact her at hartisan[AT]gmail[DOT]com.

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