Sun Rain

I long for car sunburns,

sleep, and spearmint gum.

I’ll move to the Midwest and use it as toothpaste.

We’ll pass of Fireball on the road

and use bumps as pick-me-ups at 5am.

We’ll never think of the rain again.



Steve said my hair looked like the color of love.

That I sleep with my mouth open

and smoke too much weed.

I am filled with love.

I am overflowing.

I am surrounded.

I am love.

I am love.

I am love.

I am love.

I am love.

I am love.

I’ll never forget it again.



The Big Dipper shook dust off; onto my skin.

Made me a beacon in a constellation of people.

I am one of everything

and everything is one with me.

I’ll never wash off the glitter again.



I was thinking about the Midwest.

White, orange, and black cars.

The color of the craft,

our New Year

Spotted on the first day of Summer.

Sometimes fresh starts aren’t always so fresh.

Sometimes they are hot and burning off scorching concrete.

Sometimes they are born on Midnight in the suburbs of Connecticut.