i am giving up on having been

useful, yes write it in a slab font

and eat stonefruit i bury the pit

like a promise, i cherish the bomb

like a loose tooth young buds don’t

know what time it is i miss the call

of history ur call i missed the

missile tracing late the year

& already after the fact of it to

grenadine us blue with stars&stars

&stars like pomegranate seeds—

a nude thing spangled on my phone,

and in the sky a not-quite new thing