low tide is at half past noon and high tide is at half past midnight

I do declare that I won’t trust aliens
until one of them yawns
empathically
in response to one of us yawning.

Bruise shaped maps
leading me
astray over the divested
length of a lifetime, good riddance
(time of your life).

Topless cauldrons jam
packed with embers
and tumored hamburgers
flopping in like bellies.

Poisoned green
wood pregnant with pre-syrup
embedded in a Model T that drove
from Kansas to Kentucky in six days flat.

This is a reminder
that you are not original
and that you’re already happening
all over again
just like how flower petals keep appearing
in my teeth.

About Nolan Allan

Nolan Allan lives on an island and can be found on Twitter and Tumblr.

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