weigh myself


He told me nothing rolls into the station on time,
I get the better half
stale bread and macramae.
He gets my notice in the mail
numb fingers,
morning eyes.
The bones ache where they’ve been broken before
in cold
river water in Colorado,
hotels in Beijing.
Our record collection doesn’t feel like a collection anymore.

I’ve heard the only things worth counting,
are what you cannot count on.
Even songs get broken
I weigh myself against
couch cushions
cat food
your broken bong in the corner.

On the train we forget to eat lunch
I get sick
fall asleep
forget where we’re going.
Our hotel rooms were always haunted.