When I Go to a Fast Food Restaurant
All The Fast Food Workers Are Calling
Out Your Name

it’s saturday in spring and we meet at a bar to play house. your sunglasses keep me from reading your mind. you say i want to go home and build a fort out of you.

there are two hot girls who look just like you. there are two hot girls who look nothing like you. there is a tall greying woman dancing alone. your sunglasses say look at them they just don’t give a fuck.

i ask if in forty years we will be sixtysomethings among twentysomethings drinking mexican beer and dancing to old soul songs.

i lead you to the bathroom where we lock ourselves in, plant rainforests in the ceiling, and sleep with our eyes open.

later, when the police break the door your friends will ask what you were doing // you will say making bad decisions.

with your walls all around me, let’s build a new city.
cut off my fingers to make weapons for the armory.