Thursday, November 21, 2013


He didn’t want to look at the antiques.  I was
talking in one direction and he was in his own
world.  So maybe it’s fine now that we have
each, for the afternoon, embarked onto our
very own adventures.  The future is such
a cute place, but it never should be
talked about.  Hungry, I get stupid,
and purchase two rocks from a
stranger ($75).   That is really
not something you can eat.
Especially after 150 poems.

Later, on the dancefloor.  It’s
the most amazing, sensual
Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang.
We probably looked like
quite the loverbirds.  It’s
always somewhat interesting
how the story unfolds.  Or at
least I think he was happy.
Arriving home without my
posse I realize with clarity
that I want to BE Robert
Downey, Jr.  That was
Sunday, though.  Or
Wednesday?  Last night?

I gather everything up
and put it all into the bag.
And then I notice that he
has texted me.  I love you
and I’m being a monk;
a smiley-face of relief.