Nothing is fair
since Olivia stole the hourglass ring
in the auditorium
100 years ago.
I left my car in the middle
of the world
What. Driving back
the 405, AJ asked
if I knew the host’s gastric bypass
was on E! last year.
So I have to remind myself
Go really slowly, there is
more power in fern-shaped-
tallies. In giving things up gently
than shouting from the
shower window. So
I have to remind myself
Go slower. Slower
than stores, radio
than your mother
or trains. I never
go slowly enough
to wreck just 1 thing
Sorry about before
Just asking. What do you like better
pickles or The Clash? Yeah
these are useless questions
but you could see why I might
end up saying them & not
would you like to move into my apartment
when your lease ends? Or can you ask your dad
to get me an easy job at his firm? Here’s some
divorce humor. Ready?
The song sounds like it goes Let this dude
take you to school, it’s alright, alright, alright!
It takes a lot to write about actual moments.
This New Years Day, we walked dogs
for the rescue by the deli & it was great but
I spent the whole time dreading everything.
We had to give them back and even
before, we didn’t know anything certain
about their feelings, so it was always
like we had given them back
already. A lot of it’s like that here on earth.
Palm trees get in the street. It’s too dry.
They aren’t supposed to live here
but they do, and have for so long.
Every day, say this to yourself.
You have to give everything back too.
Lucy Tiven is a poet & essayist living in Los Angeles. Recently, her work has appeared on Avidly, Vice, and in Two Serious Ladies, Lazy Fascist Review, The Quietus & The Scrambler. She is a Contributing Editor at The Fanzine & writes copy & editorial at LA Mother, a feminist-flavored marketing agency in Hollywood. She also writes a column on Real Pants about animals in literary life with help from her little cat Joey. He is a scamp.