behind the red marijuana moon
a trash bag makes love to a tree
branching out beyond its plastic
boundaries, bobbing up and down

what can you do
on nights like these
when the wind tickles
your hair growing out

the dandelions are gossiping
and the sky looks smashed
and no one cares about you
or how you bruised your toe

no wonder you feel so lonely

but really, you just need a kiss
from the nearest drunk person
whispering to you about how
today, nothing really matters

either way you go.