When I’m with you I feel clean mother-made-your-room-clean
I am a 50’s diner clean I want to throw everything out my window
the bed, my speakers, books, high def televisions,
to choke on the empty with you naked and crosslegged
skin against the hardwood summer on your forehead
we are passing wine we are spitting gravity
down from the 3rd story I grab your hand
between the push and splintering below
turnover every crevice every vein and its rust
then the fucking window
out with the american rot my consumerism with heart.
all things lightly all things drifting
this, what living is
browned rag in the corner perfection in the throat.
Daniel Tobin is an American poet living out Amsterdam, Netherlands. A fanatic of magic realism, he approaches every medium with a sense of metaphor and obscurity. He has been published in Liminality, Ink of Thirds, and Bop Dead City.