At my father’s house I cannot sleep.

I avoid becoming full.

I eat frozen blue berries with honey.

I study French.

I ride my bike to the beach.

I fold Japanese Kimonos at a textile museum.

I visit the town’s coffee shop daily.

I look at my stomach in the mirror.

I make friends with the prettiest palm tress.

I don’t drink.

I try to scare myself.

I talk to my mentor she tells the Mexican President came to her Party

She had two body guards  and a Spanish translating make-up artist.

I talk to myself

About my husband-

About  dirty subways

I talk to myself about

Succeeding and Failing

I conclude failing is not an option

I can always move onto a boat

And have friends over.

I’ll roast baby potatoes- rosemary.

Typical beautiful things like that.

So bring on cold weather

Bring on the apocalypse.