Tuesday, December 24, 2013


I know someone.

We misrepresent, get iced up,
need to be broken.  Can
somebody please just
break me up?

On second thought, our
job is to behave badly
in front of the door,
when it’s time to

pull out the keys,
so to speak.  So
don’t look so sad.
Who wants to

need more?  Who
doesn’t?  My job
is to be a stapler,
not a copy machine.

Or is it the other way
around?  I am a human
camera with an uncertain
body and an even vaguer

body of work.  I represent
the box in the attic.  Never-
mind neat and methodical.
I’m not a gemini anymore,

just deep in sleepytime,
feeling pretty good to
unhappy, and vice
versa.  Then

head to
the gym.