Morgan Parker


If you really want to know
I dropped a carrot
on the floor making soup
tripping over a Snuggie
covered in cigarette ash
No, I want the future here now
while my arms are still inked up
Where are your balls Morgan
says my brother I mean
I swear you have some
And the last man
with an accordion jumps
from a rooftop because
his family left him
between commercials
You know the one
with the chicken nuggets?
That’s my favorite
In the kitchen with eggs
and tomatoes, I am scratching
my legs and feeling independent
I leave the carrot for the dog
He touches it to his dark mouth
I push a little sermon on them
Outside, things are terrible again
A couple on the train whispers
Kings, moths, and oak trees
are snow-colored
I follow you like a puppy
to its own asshole
I nurse my wine glass
This eternity of pepper
and rosemary, will you
spend it indoors?