i've been looking at real estate in france,
but i'd live in a fishbowl just to see the eiffel tower.

you've been leaving klondike wrappers in my car,
careless and unusual,
and too much like you.

i joked once that i wanted to vacation on the sun,
but you bought the tickets,
and the burns won't heal. 

I've been thinking about bullet trains lately,
a high speed race to nowhere,
200 mph,
landscape like a monet.
motion sickness. 

i wish i could hate you,
but i can't find it in me to care.