Human Need
I’m wearing the red shirt
Yuki gave me for my birthday.
A lot has transpired since
my belated grand entrance.
As a child, for example, I
arrived three days early.
Why Thursday is more than
Sunday? (More
relevant? More
apropos?) Thursday’s
child is
mauve. Isn’t that how
it goes?
Anyway, my birthday was nearly
a year ago, so I’ve no idea.
The work that goes into these things
seems longer, huger (much more huge).
Epigrams.
Letters. Words as titles.
Peter’s party in Vallejo.
Which is
tonight, no less.
It’s a celebration.
And though I can’t recall what for
(definitely something naughty), in
retrospect it seems such wholesome
fun, the butterfly chase, the hot tub
scandal, the drunken arguing through a
few broken dreams.
Waking up groggy
and sated, eyes aflutter, a blank slate.
