Forklift, Ohio

Peter Twal

I Wouldn’t Trade One Stupid Decision

And the next morning my head like a red cup, a whole constellation’s worth scattered across the floor    How I got this tiny card in my coat saying    Hello, I’m suffering  from the worst case of TV snow shadow this side of the cul-de-sac   and taking donations Between the couch cushions    all my friends crumpled up, my keys, your hair pin    a thousand more    Every step forward pulls back like the last second before a train halts    then my head like a bathroom stall with my portrait painted on and over    (where’d I find this zipperless heart    and why won’t it unturtle)    While you’re binge  breathing just to break    even, I say    was I exploding  stars for warmth last night or just  sick    licking at your temporary tattoos