Gulf of Yemen

Georgia Bowan

Said I’m tired, my head’s in my sternum

I’m letting loose for now

My brother says he knows your sister

Said he’s heard of you through her

His hands are still small and fragile

You won’t ever meet him but I like to imagine

They become friends one day

She gets over her addiction and he starts talking to our Mom again

Silly thoughts from a distorted frontal cortex

Wouldn’t it be nice though?

I knew it was bad when I wanted to read your margins

Lick my fingers and then flip those pages

I was kind of drunk and a menace

But good God, you’ll have a wife one day

Know it’s a bother to even think about it

我不明白