it feels like im getting continually smaller
like my arms are being pulled into my chest
and my chest into my legs
and eventually i will just be two feet

i feel like i am a disabled person in the centre of a cypress hill crowd
and everyone is moving past me
trying not to look
thinking
was she born that way

keep imagining a giant teacup and saucer descending from outer space and crushing me in my house while i sleep, spilling a little darjeeling on passers-by

i heard a guy read a poem last night about a baby pterodactyl and wished i had written a poem about a baby pterodactyl

also

wondering if there is such thing anymore as
spontaneous contact
in real life
without drugs or alcohol i mean
do two people who do not know each other
ever just turn to each other and speak on the train
and touch hands
and later have sex
without knowing
if the person likes white or wholemeal bread first