and you’re probably addicted to all types of escape

there are things growing
in my fridge or
brain at
as though I have wasted everything

I am one year older
and all the constellations speak of a
wildness my feet have dreamed
of touching since I learned how to
consume ink

the future is yanking my name
from his bucket of things to do
the map above my bed screams
so loud
the nails fastening it to the wall
suddenly sharp in my lungs
my shaking hands know only three words

I’m a closet claustrophobic
addicted to a future of
plane-ticket elsewheres

halfway between the here and
desperate to be lost
before my passport expires
I hang out with too many foreigners.  Last night my friend told me he could possibly get me a job teaching English in Bahrain next year…. Now THAT is the kind of thing that changes everything.  I really don’t think it will happen.  I can’t.  Things never work out and it’s doubtful this will either.  Plus it would be REALLY dangerous to live there, especially as a woman.

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