Handsome House

By | 1 May 2015

you think like me
and find holed out solace in
a quietened
Futurama dvd menu,
sleeping in cartoon static
jokes that are too entrenched in meaning to unpack
doubled over falling over
the night is over –
home to the dancing clouds
next to the jungle stage, your reasons for being here
dressed in furs and drooping pupils
are demanded
your answers are too honest for the cameras
your words too cruel and i can’t not laugh
mateship predicated
on mutual, unironic appreciation
of post-grunge music –
“you must have been
the lamest fucking teenager”

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