Poetry is drugs
don’t fight it
be hedonistic
it’s perfectly fine
to be high and
optimistic. Some
times. Finally,
a new life
with sushi on
Powell Street.
Turn the page
and here I am
with Fleetwood
Mac. Stephanie’s
coming over
this evening.
Which decade
is this? Ten
pounds in one
month, rather
sadly reading
diary entires
from when I
was ‘trying’
to get over
the last big
someone. Def
inite. Rep
etition. Then
home to Sepia
and email from
Kim who says
“we’re going to
Mezzanine, hope
to see you there.”
Things to do in
the meanwhile:
learn Japanese
at City College,
elect a new
president,
shampoo,
and relax
on this
vibrant
Sunday
afternoon.
