Tracy Dimond





I know you are my favorite product
when I look in your face.

Good luck fighting your timeline,
the nicest storefronts are funeral homes.

Products will be bought online
while we wage a war against age.

I would feel settled
if you put your tongue in my spine.

For best results,
forget about gravity.



I Chase Endings


I turn on good-looking news
in time to burn my morning coffee.

I move my car into the tow zone
to get more notes in the mail.

Then you ask if I want kids
like I can pick them at a kennel.

Funnel retirement funds
through the spinal investment channel.

My bones speak with nerve endings,
while you chase vocabulary away.

Beige walls wash out my mind,
I want to paint billboards purple.

Say it's not my fault that
my angels recite pharmaceutical scripts.




One Day I Will Something


My roommate's alarm clock
showered at night. I thought I was in
a horror story and blamed TV.

But I woke up to American Horror Story.
thought about eating
then thought about
perfecting the white girl twerk.

The sun and moon fill the sky at 6:56am.
There's nothing romantic about
going to the doctor alone.

I learned to go to the gym
late at night to pretend
I belonged somewhere.

Do you think we are all sliding?
Getting away through pictures—
Oh, getting away isn't so true
when you are still in your mind.

What purpose do we serve
other than human connection?
A gift card would make this date
exciting like a sonnet of plastic hearts.




Stealing Lines From A Cheater


Cut out a tongue
and find yourself
listening to music.

I'm nearly amused to death
by hospital beds—
the slow movement of the crank
for a perfect position.

I may put myself in one again,
self-fulfilling injury
of washing dishes—but I remember
that my friends wash dishes too.

Stare out windows and think
about how these chores feel:
Can I tell you a secret?
Nutmeg makes all the difference
in the world.