Thursday, September 28, 2006

stuck in this chronic fight to bit my tongue
now i'm tasting blood, the last red kool aid
it's only a laceration
don't worry
i'm not that desperate for attention yet
(but if i were you could follow the veins to the source)

half an evening at velour as told through a scream, a stream, and torn piece of mead composition notebook journal paper:

i.

if it would make it easier for you, we could establish some lines of demarkation
some borders of some sort
so that you don't have to keep inching away

it both delights and torments me when i feel like,
with pure intent and feeling,
i can call you a bitch
and fuck your friends too


ii.

an astonishing amount of time in my life has been spent alone on a bench with pens. as if some memo had been passed around, everyone respects the radius. who wrote the memo? i'll punch them in the heart.


iii.

i was so close to being fine with it. like, i was one house down from fine. me and fine were neighbors and we hung out a lot and enjoyed each others company. fine and i were thinking about moving in together, cause fine's rent is lower than mine and there are less plumbing problems over at fine's place. we talked about our days and gave friendly waves when we happened to go out to check the mail at the same time. so close to being fine with it.

and then....

dread...

....be better off just to forget it. these words are sharper than necessary. and hidden, like mines. prepare for the collateral damage.

Monday, September 18, 2006

aesthetics. that's my problem. see... words and information don't change the shape of the curve. they don't darken the light that bounces off the skin. they don't dim the eyes. and when faced with a visual, words can't compete. a picture's worth a thousand. image how much she's worth while she dances.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

i need to remember that friend isn't always a four letter word
it doesn't always mean the end of the world
in some cases, it's even what ends up being prefered
but she better remember it's about what she does, not what i've heard
word.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

i try to stay out of the us vs. them chase;
instead i'm off and running, trying to save face.
while egging up the next, across the border line;
instead of trying to eradicate the border signs.
this town isn't big enough for the both of us.

stare at the notebook, it's completely full already
just waiting for me to come and with a hand steady,
fill in all the blanks, leave every word in it's place
read the pages like tea leaves and let the fingers shake
so i'm saying preemptively, "i'm done with all your tempting me"
these ink transplants have never occured so defensively
who justifies who? on some chicken and the egg game
i won't walk this path, i'll leave both of my legs lame

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

there once was a man from nantucket
who got sick and tired of the public
he knew in his mind
when he composed his rhymes
that none of the public would love it