Three Seconds Looking at Someone in a Laundromat
I’m going to smear chocolate ice cream all around my big spooky grin, lay facedown on our lawn then leap up with a moustache of gum wrappers and grass. As you laugh I will chase you like a B-movie monster, as my heart unchanges like the shiny petals of fake flowers.
In cities made of skin I will take your hand like pavement takes the sky, your eyes wide like a baby’s in a shopping cart.
I’ll invent a new religion in which the only rule is to not believe in you, and convince the whole world that you don’t exist so I have you all to myself. If you were a square on a Monopoly board I’d buy you, then build a hotel and drink whiskey sours on the roof.
I find pieces of you in my back pocket and in the teeth of my grass-chocolate grin. You are the journals I burn before I declare my last day.
Kyle Fleck is currently suspended from the creative writing MFA program at the University of Tampa for being drunk in class and urinating somewhere on campus that he wasn’t supposed to.
A Song for Kyle