Interim Champion

by: Russell Jaffe

yeah everything smells like a college town. USA some. the pizza counter corners. the staple gun trees of ripped muscle fliers the lines of which are traced in black like oil rainbow slicked feathers. the air breathes clearer for a little all right. crows’ ink ribbons making calligraphy lines across the downtown of thereafter. the shit targets in white on the ground. interim. what i leave to you i vacated. the left behind steps of a day. faucets in the low rent district. carpeting a dirty scalp. the tv is not overturned afterwards, the tv is upright and the entire world is on its side and its stomach is aching and there is such a hole but it’s all right. i found angles on endless repeat. the whole world is the same shade of slotted windows and plastic curtain boxes and hours apologizing to temperatures in long winded ways. the cars are a peaceful stretch of wet coffins. there’s no shape stronger than a triangle because it’s unnatural, and that’s what i know from love. my paper cups and envelopes to the wind from the orphanage of the city trash can. it is just sex say the airborne remains of my nails, my skin flakes, my Christmas light, my collection of 8 tracks scattered like the dust vent clump hair that are gray to keep the universe away, to cry in its room for a little. i knew love like how circles are just lazy spirals. i don’t love you like a hammer, i love you like the handle of a hammer. the songs take the soil to task but the mix tape is forever. i don’t just think about you in eyelashes and car rides, I think about you in the brick of campus office buildings and deodorant marks and empty pile of shoes. from atop this sink I hail the polemic of the unwashed clear glasses catching light and waiting like for a bus but for a phalanx of water to march upon them. it doesn’t matter what season it is what with the weather and the earth and the future. we are all interested in the future because it is where we will spend the rest of our lives. i love you, i said to the blankets empty to the beer bottles to the sleeves of clothes on the floor. we x’d each other streets calm gray and the sky. once more forever. cautious in my approach i made a home inside the still-zipped hoodie i somehow had taken off. I built a life there. i raised a family, i was good to my children and i had a wife i loved very much. everything we grew we replanted so it grew again and the children learned shapes that way. when i left the hoodie i imagined everyone told me how skinny i had gotten, but only you had said it. what is all this sweet work worth if thou kiss not me is the question i dressed this horrible by product of free will with. but i change the question. the new question is that i miss you. and when you tell me that that isn’t a question, i will be looking at you i will be a present, i will be a force, i will idle. i will there, hear, here I’m at.