for alex haristhal
by Ryan Carson
the dreams recede occasionally
and they settle into the damp sand
of my subconscious, rocked into candor.
when insomnia cracks the windshield
of my vision, I remember
what alex had to say about fractals
and that it’s reassuring,
that you don’t always notice them
but seriously, they’re always there
which is my favorite thing about celebrities
I can just think about what they are doing
at any given time
unlike friends who must be clutched
and located, texted, are you ok?
yeah, it does feel like the sky is always
falling, but it’s only raining
all the fucking time
but celebrities, I wonder what they’re doing man
they aren’t suffering, well not in the way that to clean a house is suffering
instead I like to think that moby
is driving up a hilly carpet of evergreens
courtney cox in an apple orchard with lenses
reflecting granny smith and golden, delicious
and me, clear lenses of fractal in admittedly
sick deck shoes on an admittedly shitty and sinking yacht
Sequestered, and sloppy in my best stripes I drink for sustenance.
Ryan Thoresen Carson is a poet, performer, community organizer, and public interest lobbyist based in Brooklyn, New York. His work has appeared in Denim Skin, The Promethean, and Maps for Teeth. He recently edited Alexander Orangedrink and Maddy Rojas' "Old Fashioned Love" out on Txt Books. His most recent chapbook is "Don't Watch Me Dancing."