Thursday, December 22, 2011


One on One

The worst time to sleep is between eleven in the morning
and one in the afternoon.  The most embarrassing thing
should be the most visible.  The latest culprit, for example.
But one good thing is almost any time we ever get testy
with each other these days I learn something—I mean
the process is productive.  And rarely the three of us together
compared to times recent.  Also, avoid stating (and restating)
the obvious.  Stay up until 4am playing Apples to Apples
with Otto, Erin, and Masashi after watching hilariously
horrible Sucker Punch.  Continue to reenforce, amend,
chronologize electronic photographs.  What is the goal?
Besides get quarters, flowers (maybe), yoga instructor,
and clean blinds?  Soft rain on the sofa.  Otto studies
beatnik fashion for a major corporation.  Spring line,
2012.  Richard is at Mezzanine for Britney Spears.
I read a chapbook by a poet I’ve known for several
years.  I’ve never read anything by him (as far as
memory can tell) and he’s now a completely different
person to me.  He moves up several notches.  On the
list.  Everything is in a list, is prioritized.  It takes a
lot of strategy to incorporate the random.  To ensure
random.  Your desk, wherever you make it, is the
bold new bloom of modern industry.  Quickly copy
and paste each new email from Ron, careful not to
glance at a word, saving the savor and surprise for
a carefully scheduled time in the advance.  In the
forward.  Make a note; ensure it’s on the list and
properly calendared.  Schedule time to flirt online.
Force yourself to brunch, starving; wolf down
waffle with hazel-nut flavored maple syrup and
chicken (add fruit and share half with Otto).