Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘prose’

my mother plays games

she charges more than i make in a week and i’ve seen her naked ass on a VHS i found in the garage. house calls are dog days of sitting in the van; waiting for her to come back. i am a ten percent margin of error, i think. the rings she has are not big enough for her and too big for me; i am lost in the curves […]

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