by Samantha Duncan

what if a machine
could water our plants
sing our child to sleep

travel to ‘96 and say
the shitty thing
to the boy who said
the shitty thing first

what a time to transfer
our makeup to another’s
pillowcase

after dinner and three episodes
and protest signs made
with a shared pack of sharpies

how we crotchet
into each other
without promise
of a sequel

a growth of horns
and dusks to death