sometimes i feel
i’m going to die
working in a store
waiting for money
to be meaningless
i wanted to see
ma own a house
and not pay rent
but time gathers
like a god
my broken
teeth measure
sugar & inheritance
i already lost
when i was born
when i was born
i was born to eat
the money
to watch our hands
count the ghosts
of money spent
count the ghosts
of my possible selves
lifting slowly
from my flesh
if i believe
in a lord
the lord is green
ugly and intentional
i wanted, i needed
i hungered, it was all
i knew, i tasted
america, i tasted
money, i wanted
money, the algorithm
too familiar
with my blood
and my history
this data keeps
fucking with me
i know this debt
its mine, it’s old
i know this loop
it’s mine, it’s old
i lied, i stole
i performed, it was all
i knew, i knew
she wanted some
light in her head
asking
for the twenty
in my pocket
still i pretended
it didn’t exist
beneath the dusk
thinking
i knew better
but what did i know
about pleasure
(nothing)
the body-
jumping past
(nothing)
the hunger
fed behind
a door
(nothing)
i knew stillness
something translucent
keeping me
in place
watching other
people move
like water
hauling the holy
color of money
as if their hands
were good
as if history
was good
and not made
for someone else