Dress in green, hair
half done
A painter’s allegory
should always include some color

Remember me?
I was immortal once

In 1610, it’s said
foreshadowing

A year later, truth from
true pain

I heard there ought to be some blood
on the history
otherwise it’s not really
history

Remember me?
I am immortal once more
in all the wrong ways

A friend brought her fried clams and
Mexican Cola, said this
was a metaphor for sex
Now help me write this text, faggot, I
am trying to seduce the girl
who sits by the door in Global Studies
and aren’t you good with words?

She drank the coke with its cane sugar base
imported special
said, take her to the museum and mention
something about masterpieces, I
have never been in love with anyone
who loved me back
Why would you ask me anything
when you already know
the trick about clams?

The friend shrugged. Said,
I make movies, faggot
you write poems
now help me sext this girl
before she becomes my muse

Black hat style, all western
and a black dress in the
sun, for the bones

She made flowers strange, made skulls
pastel
Did you dream of ghosts, my dear?

In high school some girls dropped a book
in a barrel of ink
stained the flowers black
got detention
also: a legacy

Who else dreams of a ghost all in black,
wandering the desert strange?