Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
SNAPSHOT
year
book
compiled
nineteen ninety-five.
flat-top, spiked
strawberry-kissed, blonde
america’s average surface:
kid, teen, nice
warm
smile
drawing attention
away
from
void verified eyes
the caution no disguise
for the forced lie
coming through—like lye—
the frozen teeth of
a snapshot smile
within a book
year-dated
nineteen ninety-five
SNAPSHOT
a spring thing
gathered
back porch steps
sister looking inside
grass stoked
bloodshot eyes
blazing smoke spiriting
in wisps around...
friends?
a few now,
even fewer then.
looking back
at young me
looking down
a little bit of company
yet no one really
ever
around.
SNAPSHOT
Kodak disposable
not feeling too posable
still lights, camera,
yeah,
cheese.
i want to hang myself
will you help me please?
a pitter, a patter,
smoked some pcp
became the mad hatter
in fact, even radder,
fell down the ladder
with a gigantic clatter.
long hair outgrew a bowl
smoked that all up
up in smoke,
nothing left to roll,
fuck the bowl
crush these pills
ouch...
that stuck to my throat!
call me the goat
as i bleat mucus out
where’s that sheet?
fuck it!—can’t stand this heat!
summer’s over
life more incomplete
progression not the fix—
age didn’t stop the torrential drive—
those haunts followed me past
nineteen ninety-five.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, June ??, 2026.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Online) - Published: June 17th, 2026 11:19
- Comment from author about the poem: Part of The Mind’s Maze collection.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 3
- In collections: The Mind's Maze.
Online)
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