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.