Untitled Cooking

Tell days to help, evaporate ruin–
Time uncooperative. Planet belt.
Only creating in brief breaks’ place.
Can’t put pen with it’s parental paper,
So I write on device. Not preferred.
Speaking in sermon to floor tiles
about the door’s riles. Wipe ‘way
muffled confession to isle locks.
Even if I finally make sense,
I’ll be lost in my own collection.
Sprinting towards stands, selling ideas,
packaged– absolution in new contusion. Counting backwards till
she loves me. Altercation envisioned,
in self and sentiments’ collective chasm.