12.21.17

at what point did we
turn face from the
warnings?

i tell her about my
deepest fears, using
non-stick frying pans.

polytetrafluoroethylene
perfluorooctanoic acid
borosilicate
pyroceram
fluoropolymer fumes

which rise in vapors
and can kill birds on
impact.

we are dying all
the time, she says
everything

kills us, everything,
this me you it
everything.

her face disarranges,
and mine does as well,
because

i’m thinking now
of sickness, maladies
my

immune system’s been
shot through with, cancer
pocks

the lining of my stomach, etc.
and my heart feels emptied out,
famished,

at the realization that
during this conversation
i

have been frying an egg in
a non-stick, while with
my

right hand scratching
the hirsute surface of my
asshole.

the sickness
has begun, I
think.

Written at 8:47 at night, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA.