Mother
There’s a kind of transformation
That can happen on any day
There’s a kind of transformation
That can happen on any day
I am sorry I let you down
I was writing this poem
In the middle of everything
Man in an Easter suit
Leans into me
To kiss me
It says 1921 in the picture
And I am smiling
But it’s not me anymore
Morning walking is like a hospital room
The getting up and feeling sorry for sleep
Putting my fat body into a cab and going to the hospital
What is going to happen
Is that it’s going to rain
Rain my love
What is between us
Is an orange flower
And it is blooming and blooming
When I hear sweet songs I think of you
I don’t know why, but I do
When I hear sweet songs I think of you
All types of porn are horrific
I just watched a woman fuck a hired hand
In her marble kitchen while her friends looked on
Today when I was walking
I had a man tell me as he passed
That I was a white bitch (he was white)
It’s a lonely world
Hi everybody
It’s Dorothea, Dorothea Lasky
I had been sitting in a lovesick fog, waiting to see Ari Aster’s Hereditary, ever since I first heard about it. I don’t usually follow new movie releases too closely, but I found out about the movie back in January, when people at the Sundance…