Three Interlocking Twitter Poems

Love is less than diamonds, more than spheres—
teach me to draw wisdom, I want to
watch it fly north with the helicopter,
stop and sleep cigarette dreams,
palms faced up in agreement with
love is long blinks upside down,
looking like gold and feeling like hope,
falling out of the ground onto the crowd
while mercy’s outside chain-smoking.
Love is an unreliable Narrator,
she demands revenge
but all I have is $640 from a 7-11—
my only weapon a feeling of homelessness and three
minutes in which to say that I feel plastic and
penniless and dream of upward-sloping fate.
Free will is only free for spheres
and other naïve prepositions—
I don’t believe in coincidences and this is just to say that
I wish I was slower and wiser,
but makeshift tapers and what I truly need is sleep.