everything beautiful and meaningless
Bedrooms are like foreign lands,
Lovely to visit, but I wouldn’t want to die here.
A black and white print of an astronaut,
Waving with a crooked smile,
Hidden behind his shiny helmet.
Smiling because he has fooled everyone.
An old wooden bed stands silent in the corner
It has cradled me in dream, and held me
Collapsed and drunken.
Its posts brown and ruddy as a sparrow’s back,
Carry hats as lookouts for morning.
The nightstand is home to everything temporary.
Nocturnal jewelry that rests in twilight,
But is always gone by the time 10 a.m. comes,
Screaming through the curtains.
Gone back to the place
Where earrings and necklaces spend their days
A cedar box, long past
The days of scaring moths away.
It holds notes with boxes checked yes/no,
Folded papers stained bright pink,
In the shapes that little girls’ kisses make.
To remind me of the love affairs,
Come and gone before naptime,
And on the playground.
Shoeboxes full of bills and receipts,
Bring me kicking back to adulthood.
Tins full of loose change, condoms and keychains.
Clothes lying tired on the floor
Suffering jetlag from the flight across the room.
Old magazines adorned with the faces
That sing me into sleep
And everything else meaningless and beautiful.