Sometimes I miss having an angry boyfriend with undiagnosed IBS (not!): a haiku

Pooping and reading 

National geographic

For 3 damn hours

in sense that only 
sleep can bring
above the free world’s crib
i am urgent
drilling pegboard perfect holes 
between half grasps
alchemy/technology 
spirit/energy
long nights/ strange music
string through spy holes
dream synapse fizz
notions drop like 
splayed petal twist 
mobile breeze coughing
old world shadows and
new world stars
on the shallow
wall

What isn’t he allowing?

We watch ourselves being polite
And are both enraged

I’ve always had all the words for both of us
You kept me simple
Loving my love
I can’t find the words, I’ve been trying
I’ve been angry, I’ve been clever
I’ve been trying

We were there

It was real

We were there

It was real

We were there

It was real

We were there

It was real

We were there

It was real

We were there

It was real

We were there

It was real

We were there

It was real

We were there

It was real

We were there

It was real

I want today, I want some

Unknown complex new

Thing 

Understood 

It’s really not that complicated, 

now that I’ve written a whole poem about it. 

We need a queer friendship

And it seems he won't allow it

And I don't know if I'm allowed to say that

I could write a poem about the

censorship that sneaks up around his insecurity

but I've really never felt like 

thinking about him that much

and I still don't want to