Earlier by Timothy Robbins

Although the point is gone
(the eye moonlighting on some
dollar bill) I know that pyramid
(the neighbor’s roof) is mine.
Power lines and bluish clouds
rush straight at me from the
vanishing point, also known as
Sam’s Club. The spot where I’m
kneeling is sacred now, though
yesterday it was a source of
great anxiety. One blanket on
the sofa and one on the floor.
Exposed carpet where my
ass stuck out from the cushions.
I tried to make my frown look
like one of pleasure, but really
I was thinking: what if it makes
a mess when he pulls out (like
afterbirth)?

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