Parker Tettleton

Pay money to be alone, to say I love you to a brick wall, to kiss that wall, that brick, to kiss nothing at all except air, fucking love that air, don't think about anyone, think about everyone, think about air because it's always in front of you, inside of the insides of you, breathe out what you have to give just in case, just in case you aren't breathing, just in case you still are staring, just in case you are eyed, you are something that might deserve a living.




This piece is part of a two-book collection I started in mid-2012 that is forthcoming in 2015--it's from the latter half, & is some attempt at writing a one-sentence answer to a poem in the former half, after the relationship that the book details is over. I'm mostly interested in multiple interpretations & cadence & personal nuances in writing--hopefully there's something specifically vigorous about the vagueness, several contrasts at work.