By
James Diaz
Kansas Don’t Make You Special
I was one lie away
from turning you in
to the fuzz
off an abandoned radio
tower in the south-east-west-north
never-never-land
who knows which
version you brought
with you this time
but no
I absolutely do not
believe that William Burroughs
hit on you when you were sixteen
writing crappy poetry
in a Kansas cafe
& then invited you to a party
that you declined to attend
but I do believe you believe it.
The Thing That I Meant To Tell You Last Time
Nap or nest around
the edges of skin
sucked dry
says he can feel
a storm coming on
but all I see
is a city
burning itself alive.