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Dear Pee,

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They’re playing Alien Ant Farm’s “Movies”
at my job right now. Remember being 14
at the 97X Next Big Thing and
the singer mooned the crowd?
I got mad because they took his ass off
the giant screen but still showed some girl
when she flashed the world drunk,
remembered after eleven years
because of a jukebox strolling memory lane.
And Hoobastank! Janis Landing giant fro
tight, tiger print pants and boots
I should have known were a bad idea-
but I let my mom dress me
and in turn learned a valuable lesson:
heels are not my friend.
Remember being little and just having fun?
Everyone here just wants to drink smoke weed
have a good time. I miss you.
I miss riding our bikes Fourth of July
stealing souvenirs out of perfect yards
some old lady crying for us to Put the flags back!
Texas is full of flags.
They’re everywhere. On the backs of cars on arms
towering over gas stations so you know
the brown man behind the counter loves America.
Texas wears flags like Florida wore palm trees,
like I wore you joined at the hip
knee to knee sister of my bones.
You were home when I didn’t want to be home.
Your laughter watered my soul in a way
I probably never told you. I’m telling you now.
I want to go back to brothers who were alive and
mothers who were healthy and
life without rent.
I don’t like being an adult. Not right now,
25 and money I don’t even have already spent
before I see it. I want to be young or I want to be old;
this in-between business is a phase I can skip.
Hand me a remote to the TV I don’t own so
I can fast forward through all the scenes
I don’t want to see. Help me
find rewind so I can ask you
to draw me a wolf for my pencil,
and we can start the best movie ever from the beginning.

Love,
Poo

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