Quick

by Alan Hanson

Waking up next to a dead body
is on trend you wash your sheets
then the kitchen the coffee table
the recycling can be new again
easy murders ricochet from
every handshake the dating app
says no one new around you
a car flushes the curb of a house
it never should’ve known how
to get to how lonely is so loud
how everything has a sound and
a gleam up on the hill is either a
flash of teeth a seething eye
the headlights flinching off
a private sigh as you’re putting
your pants on the room like a fridge
the morning’s violent grin a text
from someone near says absence
says fondness for a past is the current
roaring in your ears.

Alan Hanson is a writer in Los Angeles and you can follow him here.