I live life without a wallet
like a nudist
or a dog.
I wear my hair up and my toe
is always testing
the temperature.
Sometimes I feel the universe expanding.
It tickles.
A thick
wall once primal passes
through me.
Sometimes people leave home to suffer
indifference and write
the sort of love poems
to the ocean
that they want the ocean
to write to them.
Glen Armstrong holds an MFA in English from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst and teaches writing at Oakland University in Rochester, Michigan. He edits a poetry journal called Cruel Garters and has two new chapbooks: Simpler Times and Staring Down Miracles. His work has appeared in Poetry Northwest, Conduit, and Cream City Review.