alien

what world the world do if I became magenta and
did crazy things
like spelled my name with the wrong vowel and talked frank with adults about how they should’ve known better

stood my ground, once I’d pledged allegiance to them more times than they deserved

wore a ponytail and an orange romper while taking people’s photograph when they didn’t act kind

busted them, even though nobody’d care

what would the world do if I surrounded myself, finally, with other logical people

Golden Age

What do you call that Far East Asian ancient sailboat?

The one that’s always amber-orange and silhouetted, multiple masts

Sailing slowly but deliberately to anywhere but here

Help me because I can’t think

What, with all the noise in my head, contemplating your silence

Your confident cowardice

What do you call it

I want to hitch a ride to anywhere but here

Treasure?

No — what do you call it?

Orange

Please
Know what I don’t know to ask
Hear my whisper in your sleep
Awaken
Take my Hallows’ Eve hair into your hands
Pledge to me
Light a candle
Taste of orange
Ward-back this oddest of aches
Please