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jon-michael frank


Why Don’t You Babe


the internet   is where I   go   when I   feel like dying
white lotus   hatching   on water   modern pain   isn’t
felt   at all   it’s better   to dream   high   I hope   this
soda   is a   kind of   light   sappy brains   are   everywhere
pussycats   in a dungeon   drinking pills   on the   bridge
dazzling   and impulsive   with loss   horse by   the cliff
breathing   is sad   Gatorade   doesn’t do   what it’s   
supposed to   smoke and a   black light   poster   a little
painting   of a   boat   everyone   I ever   loved



dog   with a   third eye   whatever’s sad   loves   you can’t   be
wrong   about god   darkness   puts clothes   on   there’s a   pill
under   the stove   people tattoo   each other   with   moans   
how do   we get   out of   the future   browning   artichoke hearts
I’d rather   be famous   than young   goth music   mists   out of
a car   I wish   there was   more to   life   than what   transpires
on my   face   flamingos   toppled   on the   lawn   my body   
pulses   everything   I miss   happens to me   all the   time


Your Heart Belongs To Me

babies   are boring   you can’t   love   without a   hole   youth
as a   chain wallet   purple   stuffed animals   hanging from   the
barbed wire   fence   we suffer   the mountain   ahead   bugs shit   
on my   hat   it’s better   to want   than it is   to ascertain   blood
feeds   the brain   people muddy   with lust   how many   arms
does the   world have   I eat    a tomato   nobody else   is eating
there are   no choices   just strangers   returning   to a   room   you
mistake   for time   winter’s over   light thrums   its birth   pain   
Texas bluebonnets   on a   t-shirt   I immigrate   a little   on the   


The Joyful Things We Used To Do

on the internet   I miss everyone   how’d they   get there   taxidermy
bird   in it   for the   long haul   champagne   is some   of the   saddest
shit   in the   world   videos   of weepy   teenagers   loss is   our life’s
work   a hole   achieved   in the asphalt   by the   deserted   dog leash
people start out   alone   and then   put that   torch   in each   other   
the satanic   bible   hello kitty   purse   everything demands   a   world   
you turn   your back   to the   mountain   and one day   the past   is
far enough   to kill   you


Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You

it’s real   love   if it   doesn’t come   back   a night of   burnt
moths   happiness   isn’t   what it   used to   be   we put the
apple   on our   head   and still   get shot   in the   face   I’m
always   just   a little   bit   pity   when I see   an animal   I want
to   touch it   volumes   of white   singing   from the   barren
swimming pool   how to   recover   from life   with life   trash
gilded   in sunshine   cultivating   is the light   of pain   the
searing   humanity   I feel   looking at   a deflated   blowup   
doll   whatever   happened   to people   trick question   we’re
all   dead




Jon-Michael Frank is the author of two chapbooks: Diana Ross & The Supremes (Birds, LLC & Black Cake Records) and Here It Is My Beautiful Fucking Heart (El Aleph Press). He is the acquisitions editor for the small press BIRDS, LLC and runs a reading series called Fun Party. More at www.jonmichaelfrank.com