note

this is nothing but me seeking patience
if the ocean is a rhythm and the desert
is disease    i'll wander home sometime
and tell you stories    how the sun
waits in arizona    just hangs around blue
still    life is gasoline and diner eggs always
the same smell    i left my body off in philly
at the bus station where we slept with
the globe you chose boston by osmosis
i seeped into canyons did i mention that
fifty-eight cents will buy you coffee and a sunrise?

gonna be hot today mel says    his hands
are rusted hinges     (you)    this yellow light

— Megan London