birthday

a picture of my face
is logged on the internet
i exist
like a bead of bioluminescence
smeared across a petri dish
or jelly field
as i call it
it is my birthday in 15
and there are between 8,000
and 14,000 blue whales
in the oceans
i will die eventually
and so will all of the whales
that are currently alive
i am sorry for writing
such a self indulgent
choppy poem
with my birthday coming up
i was hoping to have access
to myself
but i guess not
i guess shutup
i am turning 28
but i thought earlier today
that i was turning 29
i guess i am lurching
as per the usual
galloping or skipping
mostly airborne
i want a tiny peelable orange
and lots of rolling around
on the floor
but the internet doesn't breathe
or know what i am
since i am unmappable
and have no idea what time it was
when i was born

this time
i was born at 11:56 pm

all i know
is
all i can know

(pin
oak)

here in the blog is
yuichi yokoyama's painting style,
the words to the record,
the solidarity,
and the rhythm
and the goals:

to always touch the cactus
between the spines

to look
and remember exactly how that thing
or person
looked
near white candles

if this blog ever
got in a car accident
it would infuse together with
painting
it would element itself
it would find you