A very pretty girl wears the same brown clogs every day sometimes. Between all the rain-soaked
steps we took and the part where she left, she joked, “These are my fuck-me shoes.”
A) Shoes worn every day, same
B) fuck-me shoes
∴ wants to fuck every day?????? But only sometimes???????
A certain warmth wafts through the air and glazes the insides of anyone who cares to breathe it
in. It’s not real warmth. It’s about 55 degrees Fahrenheit. It reeks of mothballs and chlorine.
Sometimes there’s petrichor. Sometimes I want it to fuck me. It reminds me of the extinct plants
I read about on the internet sometimes. They make me feel comfortable and protected, like
answering a rotary phone inside a Truman Capote book. But only in the book.
I miss it. and i miss when my eyes would shiver and almost bleed from staring at the rain and then
the snowfall outside for too long.
and I miss the yearning some times (because it is so so exciting).
i am okay
i am just so vomity sometimes you know.
hold this for me
hold
I know that there isn’t supposed to be any catharsis in bitching and bitching and bitching and
bitching and bitching but maybe if i do it enough times she will magically appear with her robes
and scarves hoops with her little letters that make the wait the poetry the everything that slides
and bounces off her thick sick and braised lips she brings
the rain
she brings the rain
she brings the rain
she brings the rain
she brings the rain
she brings the rain
she brings the rain
she brings the rain
she brings the rain
she brings the rain
she brings the rain
she brings the rain
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_extinct_plants#Americas
Connor Chapman graduated in 2016 from Emory University with a degree in English/Creative Writing. He is working on his second novel. When he’s not working, he’s reading, playing the drums on the steering wheel, and trying to be funny. Email: connor.chapman023@gmail.com Twitter: @doublementh
