it's like i give you my keys every night

at work so you can go get high in my car

because you don't have a car of your own

and you never invite me to come out with

you and then after there's an ant on the

counter that i'm playing with it's black

not a single red segment and your finger

the index finger crushes its little body

against the protective plastic that's on

the counter to stop the blue fake random

speckled pattern on it from being rubbed

all away by all the people's dirty hands

money and cards you crush it and let out

a small laugh and you look at me while i

look down and away from you and say that

ant was my only friend right now and you

laugh again and i say you asshole as you

smile bigger pointing out its one skinny

leg still twitching you walk outside the

sky is cloudless the moon is full bright

and nobody deserves to see stars so fine

i started to understand the city when it

was around 1988, last week i drank milk

from january 12, 1994 it probably would

have tasted better two weeks ago instead

i started to learn to be quiet and lost

in 1988 i think about your round belly

a lot it sticks out like the way you see

on malnourished children in commercials

for foster children it makes me wonder

what you eat that keeps you so skinny

and swollen i saw a picture of you from

years ago and i had forgotten you used

to be strong and solid with thick calves

i remember too much your body wasting at

the end of things we are here simply to

help plants grow just like the bees are

here we evolved intelligence to create

running water, watering cans, spades and

plant food we evolved an appreciation of

beauty so we'd have some reason to want

to make more flowers bloom like the way

bees evolved to make honey so that they

pollinate things on the way it's good

there is so much beauty hidden by beauty

that surrounds it and you talked about

flowers before me and better but it's ok

Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien

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