Thomas Patrick Levy

Author of I Don't Mind if You're Feeling Alone & Please Don't Leave Me Scarlett Johansson.

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It’s all lonesome and he knows only Lord can leave him shot-broke, the whistle wicked and star-falling. The moon’s his rotten train. He knows it does nothing. He knows only wicked pleases. He knows only Lord can leave him loaded. He can please all that nothing. The well does nothing and the yard only falls. When he gets enough he cries there is nothing lonesome. Here he’s alone. Here there’s that much nothing.

Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, Cyber Monday, and Giving Tuesday Super Sale!

Because there’s so many damn sales going on starting like, right now, I’m going to have my own super sale.

Purchase either I Don’t Mind if You’re Feeling Alone or Please Don’t Leave Me Scarlett Johansson directly from me and you’ll save 25% off the cover price of either of these two books.

In addition, when you purchase either of these two books, you will be automatically subscribed to my newsletter and when you subscribe to my newsletter, you automatically get a free copy of my new electronic chapbook YOU ARE SO MANY THINGS.


I Don’t Mind if You’re Feeling Alone

$12.00 (save $4.00)

Please Don’t Leave Me Scarlett Johansson

$6.00 (save $2.00)


Your feet are all blister and floorboard. Your walk is warped. You look like everyone I have ever seen. I say THE GEOMETRY IS ALL WRONG. You are all shampoo and shoulders. There’s so much water and it’s just appeared. You are almost all panties. I don’t notice what your fingers do when you’re not talking loud enough. You are all shampoo and shoulder and panties. I can’t find your toes. I say say THESE SHOES ARE THE WRONG SHOES. I use your shampoo and it still feels wrong. I don’t know where to put my hands. I say I WANT TO TOUCH YOU. I don’t know which words are the right words. I say I AM GOING TO COUGH ALL RIGHT. Your hair is still perfect. I tie a rope to the ceiling and I tie ropes to your ankles. I say YOUR FEET MUST HURT.Your hair barely moves in the air. Your soles are rough, your soles are sharp. Your hair barely moves even though we’re moving really fucking fast. I try to turn these circles into memories. You look like no one I have ever seen. The water is everywhere and the shampoo is in my eyes. You’re walking away. I say YOU’RE SHIRT IS TOO DAMN LONG. I say YOUR HAIR IS PERFECT.


All your things are flowers and your flowers thrive. It’s summertime and we go out into the fields and we watch the trees move slow. The wind is painful. The clouds are vague. Your skin is bare and your skin is hot and we get near the trees so I can eat the trees. You say THESE THINGS DON’T FIT IN HERE. I’m rubbing bark on your skin to make you cold. You say IT’S A GODDAMN DESERT ALL THE TIME. We aren’t near a lake so we don’t drink the lake. We’re thirsty, we drive so many miles. I have a bag of your smallest things and all I think is FLAT. There’s desert everywhere. There’s your hair everywhere. I think FUCK YOUR UNDERWEAR. There’s shredded tire everywhere. I think FUCK YOUR HAIR. I am stuck out here with something sticky in my throat and when I throw all your flowers into the trash they become the clouds. You say I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY THERE IS ONLY ROAD. You’re in your underwear. There are not so many leaves. The trash is all empty boxes. The empty boxes never belonged here. Your underwear is not a flower. Your flowers are not all gone. I find a lake and I drink that lake. I find your hair and I keep your hair.