E m i l y B a r k B r o w n —

“a note on the form”

what’s your favorite color?

mine’s impossible

light black

my hierarchy of desire

i went on a long walk and talked awkwardly

i watched 95% of a film

i walked out on my wife

i wish i felt christmas spirit

i feel nostalgic

why won’t you come back?

is it because i didn’t know how to drive stick?

so many things feel impossible, like owning a hairdryer

but i eat eggs now like air

and i go into diners alone

do you know your way around the inside of everything?

fucked grief

all i want to talk about is romance because it is without death

i’m not without anything

i carry my future death with me always

like a chestnut kept in a pocket to be worried by beautiful fingers

i am not an easy man

i’m not even an easy bake oven

i know that’s not funny but i am without wit today

what do you most miss about me when i’m not there?

i suppose you weren’t thinking of me

you were thinking of a tree you could bring inside your home

i wish my heart had a tree

in the bath

i lost myself for a minute
lying in the tub
dunking my head under
to wash my greasy hair
which as you know
i love
and turning the
undersides of my
thighs a cherry tomato
someone i know said
afabs always want
the hottest bath on earth
and i said i would rather
be called any insult than
afab and so they called me
a stupid cunt and i laughed
i love that word when i imagine
something silky and warm
call me brownie a la mode
which means emily brown in the style
the style of what i don’t know
emily brown in the style of hot baths
i had a theory for a long time
that anyone touched wrongly
in childhood liked being scalded
and uses too much toilet paper
which as theories of the world go
i’m willing to stand by
of course i’m not standing
the majority of my life has been lived
horizontally, which i like
i think i love being in bed above
all else, especially with a good smelling
person beside me
which i have often enough to satisfy
my desire for touch and warmth
i’ve been living my life on credit
for the past twenty five years and i
regret almost nothing
cruel things said without a thought
mostly drunk but not always
leaving too early
letting go of things i didn’t deserve
what would it be to be a person who
clung tightly
i wish i had a pool i could
sink into
and conduct my life from
would you like it better
to be always wet
i think i don’t actually know
what it is i like
during sex i urge myself to be here
be here now but my mind slips out
and in warm yellow light i look
my lover in the eye
stay here stay here stay here
don’t go but someone is always going
off to work to feed the cat to look at trees
and i stay in bed feeling sorry
unknowingly treading the path
back to the trance i’ve lived in
during this borrowed life
which is mostly easy and full of
pleasures as simple as a compliment
which i love to give as if it costs nothing
which of course it doesn’t
if you were next to me in bed i’d tell you
how beautiful you looked like that
loose and soft and warmed with
one spot of pink on your cheek
where i like to kiss because it appears
as a miracle each time i think to look for it

bag of meat 

i am the bag of meat of the month 

i wanted to text “do you want to stuff my tofurkey this year”

incidentally i am depressed 

regular life continues as planned 

aggrieved meat 

pay out of pocket and just out of pocket 

different valence 

somehow i got better at spelling 

what is your greatest extravagance? 

i judge others for being reasonable actors 

i don’t make choices i just vibe 

i thought we were beyond that 

but we’re just beyond beef

.