You Need to Exfoliate, Brother (or God +1)

Twos and threes list greener trees
to keep me fixated on the horizon
tens and elevens the bodies pile up
and room in storage is dwindling

She told me she’s a Christian
and her infinite god has a plus one
and she invited him to the party
watch him be all drunk and smug

Naturally I’ll be ornery and stress
over Occam’s shitty used razor
quantifying the anger is useless
especially against philosopher bullies

Flaky hands made sense in wintertime
questioning regeneration as a goal
music stops, phone ceases ringing
and yet and yet and yet I am so close

I have my pencil on the pattern
but then goddammit all light shifts
back where I started seems impossible
implausible tendencies bug my eyes

I would sooner witness collapse
than make any real course correction
forever failing our group Bechdel test
toppling the light fantastic, sorry

Stone set caveats collect in hazy indoors
her empty mouth laying in wait to
describe my ever-loving shortcomings
blowing social exchange theory wide open