I don’t know

I don’t know what this was, but I sure as hell know what it was not

Following the site measurements
after being functionally unemployed
for over a year, in isolation, I use
half of my first paycheck on a dress
that I courted for months—the rest
lowers credit cards—following
the site measurements, I find
that I am a 5X.

I browse news articles (sir algorithm
knows me. He KNOWS me.)
Knows I want to get out.
Airlines are offering new snacks
to stay afloat, tips on
how to dress for your new
isolation form, fair

corndogs from home, drive-thru fair
outside of the home, this summer
these ten tricks, fair date, which
pubs have opened their doors
for the diet that makes you
-r swimsuit fall off is the
reduction of your dreams, less
body, hair, skin, eyes, even
less body than
that, models

of exercises you can jump
rope yourself to less, a home sells
for a million over asking and I am
tens of thousands in the hole, easter
celebration, pop-out, how positive
my mother texts, I am today, when

I tell her I might re-pot a lemon
cypress, knowing what a cypress
stands for, not cupcakes, pastel
in the home, pastel on the walls, pastel
in the mouth, in the dress that falls
off the body during international travel

some isolation forms are buying homes
in international places, wearing
clothes that fall off the body
in international places, outdoors

some dine in soft light, move
solid in campers, camp near a fire
light, spin tales near their articulated
wish for more pastel, less self
to tell around

bon
-fires, clamping hard, a little camp
in your makeup routine, new
hikes, the new hiking boots that will
fall off your calves
as if you didn’t ever even have calves

or hype bourbon until it’s your new
man, April
tastes like less self, to drink
every calorie, to even
taste thinner—
when he finally gets there.