an inferior kind of love

6 Sep

if i were a spider, i wouldn’t mind being sucked up into a vacuum cleaner. I’d just wait a second or two and spin a web inside the vacuum bag. if i lost my apartment keys and the windows turned to steel, i’d be grateful for lockers at the bus station where i could stash my clothes and wait out the night and when the mountain came alive again in the sunrise morning and all its geology and faces shined so bright or dull; rain or not rain, it wouldn’t  matter to me; i would sit at its base and day dream volcano that once exploded and still explodes every time i see her we sit totally imperfect with our pock marks, bad breath, and jealousy – our own little dilapidated kind of love, depending on each other because the alternative is a riot against death and neither one of us wears skateboard pads.


5 Responses to “an inferior kind of love”

  1. kvennarad September 7, 2016 at 5:07 am #

    That’s right.

    • Steve Myers September 7, 2016 at 11:27 am #

      what’s right?

      • kvennarad September 8, 2016 at 4:49 am #

        The whole poem, especially the last line.

        • Steve Myers September 8, 2016 at 10:25 am #

          holy mackerel, that’s a long line.

          • kvennarad September 8, 2016 at 7:35 pm #

            and there’s a hook on the end of it, which accounts for the mackerel.

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