Brooke Lee Adams
This whole tumblr thing isn’t going so well for me… I don’t think my posts are coming up when people search the tags I put. Strange. Hello?!
One day, I can wake up;
tie the laces of my biting shoes,
send myself in two glass doors
nod to empty questions by men/women who, by virtue of their years
are called “teachers”.
It’s my final year.
See myself moving to get the balmy promise of a secure job.
You want to play very nice house,
very Sweet House,
then I go to have a very, very bleak life.
Or is even that sensation the re-affirmation of a familiar refrain?