by Em Beckert
Morning comes like a Hall and Oates song.
There’s a blackberry seed in my tooth-hole.
I guess, at some point, my filling fell out.
My phone says to me lover. My body
says, about the whiskey, don’t do it again.
We gathered under the strawberry moon.
My cat emerges from the sofa, his age betrays.
Four years is the longest time I’ve spent
doing anything, which includes nothing.
Driving my friends to the bar fills me
with a lifetime of accomplishments.
A sticky grin takes me over, gladly.
Joy stretches to my throat.
Buying flowers in the grocery store
raises my heart rate to something hunted.
Em Beckert is a Chicago-based writer and teacher, their work can be found at @pitymilk_press, and soon elsewhere too 🙂