my sorta friends eat

by Thais Benoit

my sorta friends eat tiny
multicolored pills and keep them in
plastic containers with
too many lids

this is new york city
where arguing works

i supply a jumbled list of uncategorized answers
i sit with them
cross-legged, on the floor and
sort them into piles,

crushed seashells in my pockets
and orange marigolds in my hair

i beckon a tickle
deep in her throat
i am arachne,
she is afraid of animals

i am part of a generation of people who pay their bills
with borrowed money
bending time
i dig deep enough

america is dying, and
georgia o’keeffe is boring.
i am singing with grain stuck
between my front teeth,
you’re still parading
the importance of
your skin and whom
you miss at the moment

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