memory of Sunday morning nostalgia for Georgia

note: this poem originally appeared one year ago today. depending on his or her needs and proclivities, the reader is encouraged to engage the text horizontally, vertically, or any combination thereof.

(any likeness to Tennessee is strictly coincidental.)

Sunday morning nostalgia for Georgia

feeling:

the ennui of

waking

the Smiths

after

making lattes in

Coca-Cola nightclubs.

mixing:

photo developer

with orange juice

and dreaming of

Floridian abortions

and Chattanooga matrimony.

my uncle

died

doing:

nothing.