Plastic Heaven Lasts Forever
13 eons ago i grieved shyly— as i couldn’t make mincemeat out of the night we met, i had a hard time with the teeth, entirely non-compostable. no lies, really decomposing. shuffle,
*this is our empty box [perhaps outrage is a conditioned response to move what we cannot touch] mid-afternoon & i think those thoughts inconsolable: “O, to unscramble your face like those sliding tile puzzles you find gambling in cereal boxes until they are no longer plastic.” reshuffle:
*this is our newborn box [we realized electrons can only push so we scrabbled my knees with your daisy chaining fingers in an attempt to touch] like the gum in your anagrammatic intestines, has it really been 7 years since we were unchanging? a linear perception of time is like rounding my height down to 5’11. plastic heaven lasts forever & my bones are tethered for as long as forever is. unshuffled.
*this is our terminal box [like the little letters you passed me while we waited for time to reboot the right-side of their mind.]
[they make me feel like you’re really here.]
MMJames (Maggie Matthew James) is a concrete poet and essayist from Sussex and the Bay Area. Their work has appeared in *82 Review and Jeopardy Magazine. They moonlight as a roly-poly who lives in our brains, @pingotooby on Instagram.