Love punched my brains out like
Artie in the post office parking lot—
“A big Samoan hit me and now it feels
like there’s computers in my eye.”
Everything big and distorted with
the 19-hour days and the 19-hour nights,
mountains balding into summer now
as tourist traffic materializes onto streets
we first learned empty and white. All
I want: to explore the wilderness of Costco
with you in the Dimond District,
buy a new set of Tupperware with red
lids and smooth sides. To be tamed
with you and tell you every night
which are satellites, planes, and stars.