I will conjure you a postcard someday
Far away from now, two or three
Hundred miles from now, a
Couple of leaden languages from now
When I am grazing in a crystal language
But you are grazing in another crystal language
And something resembling nighttime is not possible.
I will always be the one that thinks
Breakfast can be a hideous palace
Where no one is king or queen and
Hi, you must be music nice to meet you
Is what I wanted to feel.
I’m not nourished normal yet and
Have to weaken to recognize food.
That is the animal lesson: just lessen.
Accumulate tiny valves.
Love the smoke output.
Smoke the input.
Be the crypt in description.
And those were angels in my input,
And I just didn’t know.
I was a physical lover only.
A postcard for you and people you will love then.
I will always be the one that thinks
Talking at night is a sort of daytime.
MH Rowe's fiction and poetry have appeared or are forth coming in DIAGRAM, Necessary Fiction, Word Riot, McSweeney's Internet Tendency, ILK, Bodega, and Timber Journal.