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.