the stars are posing, no they’re not


‘the stars are posing, no they’re not’ makes mention on themes of violence, self-harm, and death.

all my dreams have Sagittarius midtones.
i never knew a Gemini i didn’t find suspicious.
it’s my dad’s birthday today,
lost him some Aquarius seasons ago.
this retrograde, revisit unfinished business. Mercury
dyed her hair orange, and doubts. it’s still
a business even if Frydenberg denied my JobKeeper application. Aries, i need your
fire to save me. don’t
save me, i like drowning. Venus drowning
in Scorpio’s soupy hair, the smell tempts me into
lying. Pisces—are you a pillow i can sink my oily f
orehead into? my mother didn’t spit me out of her vagina perfect
but all the jobs i apply for ask me to be superhuman.

(i just want superannuation,

and to kiss a supergod with a dad bod, on
their pubic hair)

i wish i could get paid correctly for all the work i did
on myself this year.
invoice number: the rest of my life, after this