Up Late: A Typewriter in Love

[Sit Up Real Quick]

We’re lying on the couch,

my head in her lap,

and I’m counting lines

on the plywood

nailed to

the ceiling

when I notice

the speed’s kicked in.


Her fingers run through my hair

and pluck the thought.

“It wasn’t the drugs, right?”

I close my eyes and

think about the drug

rushing the clock towards

a real fight, the difference

a whole year of miles makes.

I think about my parents

breaking up, how she

doesn’t know everything

about Batman.


I reach over and click

the video on.


Now I’m on the laptop screen

telling her about my love

like a total doofus,

how we’ll say it

in the future and mean it

in every possible way.

Then I kiss her and

she kisses me twice.

The music that’s on

is from the wild west.


The video stops and

we kiss. She tastes like

bitter beer, clean cotton,

and a wisp of smoke.

“It wasn’t the drugs. I do.”

And the tractor beam

of her lap pulls

me back in.

[The Bull]

 there’s a fight bull in my chest

that wants out

but I’m too quick for him,

I turn as he rushes past, I breathe,

“Oh please god don’t

get out.”


there’s a fight bull in my chest

that wants out

but I leave the party in time and put

the last beer down

and my friends and my family

and my girlfriend

always miss

our dust dance.


there’s a fight bull in my chest

that wants out

but I’m too quick for him,

I dodge,

and feel his steam snort breath in

my ear.

it sounds sharp like knuckles


my hands strangle themselves he was

so close.


there’s a fight bull in my chest

that wants out

and I get real tired, so I stare him down

now and again

when it’s dark and quiet.

I say, “I know that you’ll win,

you always



then he stamps over

and he’s quiet, full of steam,

so I rest my hand on his


and all night we stand just like


with our

hot breath

and sometimes we thrash bones

across wood,

and hope to cool,

hope we can.

[Between Breaths]

A ground up

speed antidote

can cure you

of sunrise.




I really need

the bathroom,

to go to work,

to finish the work.

I’ve got no time and

lots of help.




I’ll never get out

from under this rock.

Good thing I found

someone who warms it.




Bed’s in shambles.

What sin is this?

I feel a warm

proof breath

next to me.




My girlfriend woke me

with a blowjob.

It was good.




Didn’t finish

work last night,

turned the alarm

clock off.

The extra minute

in bed

was worth it

with her.




The conversation

I’ve rehearsed

is only a matter

of time.

Her Dad will be happy.

She will be

stunning in white.


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