i want to count time in the white black holes of my basketball
Lily Ross
when my
mom talks
loudly
on the phone
in the middle
page of my book,
i could
kick her off
the small
overlook that’s
to the left
of my house —
she wouldn’t
die or anything,
maybe break
a bone or two
and skim her
belly when
the cat cracks
inside me
and the goldfish
whimpers that
it’s time for
his daily walk.
i let plans
for the day
divide into
other plans,
confide
in each other
what they wanted
in the first place
out of life’s
spinning
cauliflower —
but all i ate
was roasted
broccoli for
dinner,
which is
actually
my favorite.
all of my
dreams are
too realistic,
shaved heads
and breakups
on the
living room
couch and get togethers in
shakespeare’s
closet, while
my dreams
are dreaming
for wolf-cat
hybrids and
school
principals
covered
in cannabis
and apple watches counting time
in the white
black holes
of my basketball.
the wind
can’t take
me down
anymore
like it did
during that
hurricane
whose name
i can’t
remember —
when the
schools shut
down and
slimy candles
slimed the house, and life felt less blinding and
more temporary.
mom talks
loudly
on the phone
in the middle
page of my book,
i could
kick her off
the small
overlook that’s
to the left
of my house —
she wouldn’t
die or anything,
maybe break
a bone or two
and skim her
belly when
the cat cracks
inside me
and the goldfish
whimpers that
it’s time for
his daily walk.
i let plans
for the day
divide into
other plans,
confide
in each other
what they wanted
in the first place
out of life’s
spinning
cauliflower —
but all i ate
was roasted
broccoli for
dinner,
which is
actually
my favorite.
all of my
dreams are
too realistic,
shaved heads
and breakups
on the
living room
couch and get togethers in
shakespeare’s
closet, while
my dreams
are dreaming
for wolf-cat
hybrids and
school
principals
covered
in cannabis
and apple watches counting time
in the white
black holes
of my basketball.
the wind
can’t take
me down
anymore
like it did
during that
hurricane
whose name
i can’t
remember —
when the
schools shut
down and
slimy candles
slimed the house, and life felt less blinding and
more temporary.