Don't Give A Damn!

don't play this for your kids

"LUCKILY MY DENTIST HAD A PAC-MAN MACHINE AND I BECAME A HELLA GOOD PAC-MAN PLAYER"

So. I've started posting on here again.

And I just read some of my older stuff and- oh.

Wow.



Well, I guess we all had our periods when Fall Out Boy really captured our inner angst. My period is just on the internet for all to see.


Anyway, time for a new start guys!

05/16/11

...And in that moment there was only her and I

...And when I woke you did not mean any of the things I'd thought could only be found in you. My gravity has altered and now
I
float
free


but wondering:
which sun shall draw me in
with her
heavy light

If
and When
I will lose myself
in another soul again

(there are things within me
that call for things within you)

The Scene: A Darkened Living Room

Two lovers confront each other slowly, and not wanting to bring up the situation at hand play with their fingers, crack the joints, look around vaguely then say “It’s raining pretty hard, isn’t it?” The third person in the room, whom neither of them can see nor hear, replies, “Yes, it is.” He exits the room through a gaping hole in the wall into an alley suspended fifteen feet in the air above the neighbor’s yard, and asks unanswerable questions from all the mosquitoes that venture near him only to be stymied by his black aura. Below him an alcoholic, wet and shivering mutely pleads to be shocked out of the life he is living and to be taken back to when he was seventeen and just starting to fuck up his life. If he got to go back, he said, he would do it all differently. He wouldn’t have gone to those parties, he would’ve made curfew, he wouldn’t have started stealing those beers. He forgot to take off his watch when the rain started, and it is soaked through, black shivering emptiness where a sense of punctuality used to be long ago. The golden hands deftly twirl light from the streetlamp into needles and pins of glimmers. A deer starts running, is on some level hit by a car, but never stops. A great animal, the size of a military tank, wanders the monsooning city streets. I look out with a sensation of do-goodiness, and the feeling of luminescent ants covering my hands and genitals. I take another pill and sit down to read a book about about D.H. Lawrence’s life. I read a sentence, look up, and it is now DAYTIME. Light streams in around me, and a small child runs through my front door, wielding a hatchet and wearing a backpack inside which I can tell lies a pristine waffle-maker. Inside the walls of my house run streams of blackened hypersensitivity. We have questions, yes we have questions, but in our ear canals there are oceans, and if we turn our heads too quickly they will spill out and drown the world.

grappling with-

For Someone Named Anna, Since I Don't Have A Friend Anna To Dedicate This To

what'd I'd like to say is good job on that thing you did
because nobody could have done it
or would have even thought of it
at least nobody I know

who besides you would've taken the sun
and stretched into a halo
to keep your ears warm in the winter?

only you, only you

which is to say, I love you for who you are, not just your celestial earmuffs

if I don't blow off some steam
I won't be able to sleep
with a billion degrees piling up inside my veins

my dear world, there are things about you
I just don't know, so I close my eyes

if I got everything I want (I want so little nowadays)
it'd be three days for sleeping, two for running, and seventy seven for lying next to you
and eighty-nine for watching the sun come in through the window in the living room

love is a question

in the road I stepped with
no intention of anything beyond
total love

like a stream of water that wears down an impossible rock

and a bird that flies through the greatest storm that can twist the heavens

if I am changed beyond recognition, it is only because I have changed along with you
every scar you've gained all these years, I've mimicked accidentally with a falling vase or misplaced knife
every infirmity that shakes your grip on life installed a matching crack in my house
but my foundations are firm, I have built on our love

out in the road, I looked up
had my gaze caught by the windy sky and felt grabbed
hooked around
and I realized this: that all love is a question, and death is the answer
now peace reigns, and I am your husband

poem abt. writing poetry

oh my god
I didn't write a poem for class today
I didn't even remember what it was until I read the prompt at the top of the page

What's my problem that I can't take ten minutes to crap out some verse? or jot down a rhyme like this one, scribbled in class while Kort speaks and reads her poetry

ex-swimmer

you're so mean when you want to die
you say you're ready but you don't know why
don't you hide your pain from the whole wide world

Don't you miss the days when you used to swim?
with she and her, and him and him.
but the water has no beauty now, no faceted diamond glints

just a dirty pond of H2O, with a surface that reflects your sins

autocannibalism

you don't think of anyone but yourself,
you're a bully and a **** and a beautiful person
when you're out in the light

It's a little sick the way you're so weak
and your weakness has everyone wrapped around your finger
even you

you let a black hole grow inside your chest,
if you don't block it out it'll eat your air
you will choke and die