Talk to Your Glasses about It

at best words are bad 

therapists       on good hair days    

I can’t stop looking   in

the mirror    in the mirror   

a kind of Tetris of unknown   

shapes        out of shape 

& out of love      a place

to sleep      in your sleep 

by the beach  I’d perfume

in your pink noise

my feelings    play-dead

with the rainbow   90% rain

& the rest too pretty to look

No, Yeah

you caught me
listening to death
metal in the garden

I'm too close to myself
tattoo on tattoo
to make room

I want to touch
everything like it's the sun
till the world & I are chill

here in this skin is
I don't know what
& you don't either

& that makes us
both a little
smarter, suicidal


Put an infinite number of tapas 

on my plate,

I tell the waiter.

If the arithmetic is simple

the simple is all


It costs a lot, I mean.

So I try for the door

but forget

I’m wearing

these giant fluffy


It’s that I'm running out of planet,

ways to go hungry

or fully insane.

Peter Cole Friedman loves to love but his baby just loves to dance. His website is

I Don’t Know What I’ve Built

But I can tell you

it makes perfect sense.

I can tell you my favorite part

is a pink A minor chord

limed with dust

glued to a rainbow

seen from a French

veranda. I can tell you I hear

"So long" but no "Marianne."

I can tell you there is no dance

that goes with it,

just some flailing

like a flower

in my chest.

I guess this is what

has grown out of it.

I guess this is what

people mean

when they say

"It's done."

Images by Elfie Hintington courtesy of the L. Tom Perry Special Collections, Harold B. Lee Library, Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah.

Copyright © 2016, Otis Nebula Press. All rights reserved.