i have not decided if you can drown on a plane

7/30/2019 I Have Not Decided if You Can Drown on a Plane

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I HAVENOTDECIDED IF YOU CAN DROWNON

A PLANE By Alex Hutzler



There are cats that seem taller than this yesterday i fell in love

with blistered fingers and

thought that

maybe under the pretense of

faulty hips that the

laptop left abandoned by

the plaster alabaster girl

kept hinting at

crowded planes felt

better than old homes and

maybe tomorrow willfeel a bit better a country

removed from your bed



Not Every Poem Is About You Except For

Always spent an hour wrapped

in cold compresses and

drained limbs caught

between your teeth

yesterday i wanted

to feel better about

something less crushing than

what is this about what

is this about why

do i not feel better andmaybe if this plane could

be any smaller i would

suffocate or perhaps

i’ll find the

line that keeps you

drowned in deflated

ginger ale



no bruised berries on

your lips and keeping

the marks on your tongue

blister my

name and give me

the morning moans that

keep me sedated



you’re selfish and I don’t believe in love misshapen constellations painted

on your bedroom walls i

never thought the doorstep would

feel like the door

found the traction on the

road to be more like home and

michigan winters taste

better in fall



I am writing to get you out of my

system because one month is too long “hello” was not

the first word granted

and “love” is just

a spinal tap

writing is better when

i feel words rather than

think them and this is all

cliché we are all clichés

caught in a

playbook I never bothered toread and

now we have gotten back to

“I” but i

guess that is better than “we”



untitled inked “FUCKED”

in a tone i

carved out of your

tongues and

kept the coffee table

stained with our

teeth and keep

the moaning down the

cat is asleep



I Think It Is Possible To Drown On A

Plane i watched the first class take a

sigh and bleach their bones and

memory says that

if the cat has the tongue kill

the dog but

she wore lilacs but

smelled of blood and iron

cleans better

off the face

there was a stack of

rolling drinks and

dry ice but

every look kept a scream

beneath a sigh and

i watched the death of

the plane by keeping tabs

on the drinks and

i have never been

more excited to walk into hell



untitled licked veins clean under

false afflictions

a stranger called

you “man” yesterday

responding felt like

holding your breath

tomorrow will be

just like yesterday if

you called me imight be inclined to

texting you made

something like feeling

ignorance could

have kept me content

happiness is not

what i need



hello, doctor: I am making this Bigger

Than It Is assign me twenty-five so

god will give me thirty

bent fingers became my

chapel in morning prayers that

sounded like you were asleep

and i was begging on

knees bruised by the sun

staying awake to

count your dreams I DoNot Believe In Love I

Do Not Believe In Love I

Do Not Believe In false concepts

constructed by man and

weakened by language

thought about drowning in

the bathtub waiting for

a sign in the tea over

brewed to bitterness (unless

that was my tongue) could havebeen the blood from the blisters

i keep on my palms

just wanted the

carnal afflictions to mean

more to you than they

ever will to me



“mahal kita” was not the first phrase I

learned maybe i repeat worth

too much and make it

valuable to the worms

crawling in teeth

worn shoes down to

the soul keep running

i knew more

about the body than i

ever did of hugs or kisses or

why the gods kept dignity wrapped in sheets

and just out of the

reach of death



laugh at me while we wait for my toes

to bleed the latter half of

the image won’t load

even with autumn calling

and an unsettling noise

starts crawling in

your throat i

am full moon laughing

across the bed



untitled fell asleep on

birch trees that

sing like sparrows

drowned in

the ocean

count tides on your

toes and follow the

doves into next year

with promises of

winter keeping you

ten years younger



we did not fall in love every city looks the same at night

twenty years above

the thoughts of people and

sinners look the same as

you driving by in your aunt’s car

and the houses

vary by pools and yards but

i could see the fire long before

the city and maybe

that was a sign because i

called it home before i ever came into

the atmosphere like

what were these bones thinking

not every body can

take on thoughts the ocean can’t

keep above the sea



chemical kids in chemical city nights question barbed-wire

around your neck

lace bleach into your

fingers tapping against the

table keeping the

servings of tea to

two cups one for you and

one meant for the

empty seat thought

i could open the blinds



I Am Not Actually Thinking it is cute because

every syllable pronounces your

name when spoken too slowly

not every poem is about you except

when it is and hell

tastes better with a splash of

wine vinegar and

i could learn to hate

you better if a better book existed but

we are all addicted to some

flaw and maybe existence is yours



untitled once upon a time

someone told me that

it is impossible to

love a ghost but

never listen to

a fool in love with himself or

he or she or they will

will forget that

this concept never

pertained to just them

but to every moth that

kept you a month away from

fruition



clinical depression is not my only party

problem the one time i

ate in front of you prompted two weeks of

seven pounds lost in the first

and the second might have

produced a few more if

i had not been in a state of

driving through mountains

began to eat too much and count

the number of days it will

take for me to realize that i will binge until school tells me

liquids are your best friends

(which will be better because

bones make me happier even if

they are not yours)

could pray to the family tree

in hopes that they

will never find out that

you have helped me consume

the year welcome tothe new month where

i will be another year older and

perhaps six feet under

parties never meant “f u n”

to me anyway



we used to wonder why my feet are

always cold i am sorry you are selfish

but i guess so am i because

every poem seems to be always

be about me but

i always meant for this to be about you

and how planes never felt much like

home until it drove me ten years away from

something that only existed in

typed words but

thank you for the false material and

false afflictions hopetomorrow finds you happy bet you

didn’t know this really isn’t about you (laughed

all the way to the alter and home again)



happening endings stifled march sounds that

begin with september and

alice fell down a whole

new world and promise but

en pointe just means get deader

not better when

you try to resume the past good

luck tomorrow on

a tonic and gin thought

you didn’t drink



menswear is the fashion statement i

like to make after A Mistake fell asleep to

a suicide blonde telling me

secrets i never asked to

learn about how

to keep you away in the

night when i am trying to

not stay awake much longer than

three in the morning after

you leave me but

kept the moaning asa background noise to

showers alone with

a dying orchid and

stained teeth the colour of

tainted water but

wore a new shirt last night

that meant nothing to me

outside of a fashion statement

that you will think is

beautiful whenmy bones are stripped and naked

(thought you might have

wanted the flesh or maybe

that was only me but

this is all in my head anyway)

traded in the red for a

nude peach and kept

running under water until

you could trace my veins like

daffodils you claimed toreally hate in

my hair should have

known when you liked

the ring better than my fingers

along your cheeks but

happy endings always happen never to underserving gods

i have not decided if you can drown on a plane

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