09 Apr Greg Zorko
i am so small and not lonely
the world is like a pita for me.
i am the chicken, the lettuce and aeoli
i feel very happy about this
i post things on the internet about the health benefits of raw coconut milk
like a prophet
in the wilderness
i want the earth to be aware of raw coconut milk.
i draw all over myself with crayons.
sharpen them between my teeth.
i am a beautiful varicolored bird
when i listen to you in the other room and there is that squeak in your sneakers.
you light the “Justo Juez” candle and water the cactus.
even when i die, i’m happy to know you are growing.
you are growing the way cornflakes grow in milk.
i think: if i die a little more maybe you will grow faster.
your feet are bigger than mine.
like the Aztecs
i want to make you a billion cups of coffee and throw severed heads at you when you feel lonely.
the blood is fake and the heads are fake too.
u text me
“i am making blueberry pancakes.”
and i feel conflicted
because i hate blueberries and love pancakes.
i feel small in my body
i don’t think i needed or asked for a body.
i didn’t order it
in the way i order chicken quesadillas at Taco Bell.
i would like to leave the door to my apartment open
until moths come in to eat my eyebrows and skin
and bats fly in to eat my bones
and shit all over the place.
i will lose my security deposit.
Greg Zorko is a writer living in Indiana.