Monday, March 22, 2010

I gotta stop asking people if they think I'm pretty.

I gotta stop asking people if they think I'm pretty.

- I'm worried I might be an alcoholic.

-If you're an alcoholic, we're all alcoholics.

-I know, that's why I'm worried.

He laughs.

-I'm being serious.

He's looking at my tits.

-You're not an alcoholic. Don't worry.

-I know.

I say it exhaustedly and look away. But I'm not exhausted. I am very high-functioning on a hangover. Very high-functioning.


I'm reading the dictionary again.


I already militated once today and I might do it again. I am crazy like that.



I understand perpetual motion.

and eager beavers

in that order


Opportunists totally got to pick their own name.


There is no perversion. But some things you should never do.


the go to have from do box whale necklace clock whale motorcycle lamp teeth red and blanket perfume
them's all the words I know
why did you write that
I said that
don't don't write it don't write it
don't write it

do something about this writing
do something
stop it

I want to erase all this
stop it

erase erase erase erase erase
just erase
just erase
come on

stop writing all these notes


it's hard to pick it apart when it's so well put together


Saturday, March 20, 2010

Conceit and Philosophy

I am a poet
she says
and a thousand poets smile with her

You cannot say that
he says
and her smile vanishes with his

Her heart questions him
why not
Why can I not speak of who I am

His words remind her
why not
Poets don't know what or who they are

But then who could say
I am
If to be is also not to know

That's not what I said
he thinks
You don't understand what I'm saying

But I think I do
You said
I can not say who I know I am

I'd rather you not
is all
You're just really conceited sometimes

She feels all alone
I thought
you were being philosophical

Don't be mad at me
he sighs
I didn't mean to hurt your feelings

I never said that
I was
angry or that my feelings were hurt

It's so obvious
that I've
offended you and your poetry

Her mind wanders off
I do not know what poetry is

You're being absurd
The rhyme or measure of written word

I am just kidding
I know
I was being philosophical

You are a smart ass
You think
you know everything all the time

Why would you say that
she asks
I was just trying to be funny

He lightens the mood
I know
You're about to start your period

What did you just say

I said you're about to start your period

Am I hearing you

You are this way right before you start
You kind of lose it

She asks
so I lose it right before I start

Usually yes
I'm just
saying you're being sensitive

Let me get this straight


No I really want to understand

Don't be difficult

I'm not

I am just being realistic

So me being a
is somehow not a reality

Oh get over it

she looks
away and wonders about true love

He takes her picture

She speaks
I don't know what else to do or say
I'm just being me

I know

So you know when I am being me

I am exhausted

Because I was about to say the
same but then it
would mean
that I wasn't exhausted at all

Can we start over
I mean
it's obvious I can't win this fight

She touches her face
We are both wrong I am a poem

Saturday, March 13, 2010


generate is a good word
it means everything


bring into existence
cause to be
by a chemical process
by a civil or natural process
vitally and profusely
trace a figure by the motion of another
act as base for all the elements of a given set

grandeur comes to mind


splendor of appearance
social distinction and display
elevation of

gracious sounds nice

showing or bestowing grace

oh but grace

any excellence
characteristic attraction
natural or acquired
elegance of
the unmerited favor and love of God toward man in Christ
divine sanctifying
preserving influence
spiritual excellence
a brief prayer before or after meals
behaviour or demeanor
indulgence or privelage

where do we play into any of this

green and blind eyes

I think about being just anyone or being great
the delicate difference
and suffer and suffocate
grin and question
search for tears
broken men (who undress me with their eyes)
listless women (sighing in relief of their upturned nose)
his poverty
her wealth
the delicate indifference
of the homeless and the socialite
their seamless seperation
is the greatest tear of all
in the foundation of our culture
the impoverished have nothing to give
but in the hands of those with all of the means
there is the end
there is the end

Friday, March 12, 2010


Your body
Designed with a purpose
Movements confessing instincts
Alert but unaware
Unable to know beauty
So you come undone

Awakening a sense of self
Search for purpose
Reactionary traveler
Always in step
Without regard
And the grass dies beneath your feet

Suddenly you hurt for the grass
Instead of yourself
Feeling your own weight
Pressing upon the world
The world pressing upon you
And you change