sipping lemon Coke waiting around for a beautiful day in this class we will write toward the terrain between poetry and fiction there must be a way we can work it out where the shape and tone as always remind us over and over that the line or sentence is just an idea that I love him and miss him that narrative is the notion of time these last few weeks in that somber place maybe he’s dead and character’s shit when it comes down to it sometimes he’s a jerk the class will imagine and test out why honest love is true and getting a life perhaps is stupid or sometimes storytelling works against itself toward a knock-on-your-butt kind of love that is rebuffed ten-fold conventions are assumed intolerably selfish oh to be fawned over in linear progression do we have to wait until after tax season for an authentic voice which makes a novel swinging in a sooty tire under an elm tree at nighttime and later that same big elm in the backyard bang-bang- banging against my bedroom window no one is here to soothe me except the deafening cicadas now it’s dusk and so as not to disturb his brothers he sleeps dreams resolves to write forever kicks at the mucky sand watches paint peel off the back porch
I’ve lost whatever will I had to stay away from this gray rock wall that is friable it’s like there’s a big lump this misery were I painting it I would not be painting it I want to wither away to nothing and examine the break its circumference the round years no more dreams so temperamental
two years ago as we both agreed things were great the sunshine in this parking lot its grand entrance the cat lying on my favorite sweaters it was too perfect I cross the street for my morning coffee not bothering anymore to look both ways remember these apartments they are subsidized I lived here once a fallen limb still the two bright lemons next to the Virgin my powderblue Audi the old Perrysburg-Holland Apartments a pair of hummingbirds lovingbirds flying out of the courtyard at least I look sharp
on the front porch red blue green many hairs of priestesses he’s showering or telephone kissing in front of a Richter Abstrakt Bild I’m to dinner simmer like homesickness kiss kiss next to Urban Outfitters for new secretary her 2nd workday visit home squeegees long-handled brushes large Plexiglass panels Betty 1988 from phantasm his daughter several grays otherwise drunk-looking tomorrow take profile whatever henceforward like 6:45 Wednesdays I kiss him on his Union Square down six hot flights to laundry dinner and wet from shower
writing an imaginary letter to you just finished half a sandwich and a really good bowl of gazpacho since we’ve been dating the nitty gritty is I’m not satisfied with the way you want things the guy who said we should be boyfriends that we really looked good together maybe it’s time for me to move on he also said his mother was always giving him mints for his bad breath I’m not sure if that’s really how I feel but you had the mettle to answer him something like well you know when the time is right and all I believe it’s good for me to think like this why do I have such a crush on you I’m always over-scrutinizing things do you ever want to see anything I write
have I mentioned that I really like watching movies when we’re lying like two toothpicks in the shape of a cross
my new miniature ledger it doesn’t feel much different seeing those red splashes across the screen which signify blood in a funny way though
the guy I went out with once on a lame date behind the counter is still a dull echo in my ears it’s the same sort of mess as everything boring and not assertive in the least
last night I drank Pixie Piss at Doctor Bombay’s after which I saw a UFO and today I’m all smoke and mirrors
how long can I go without naming names
the concert under the stars at the zoo amphitheatre weather permitting
twisting the radiator knob that does nothing
hitting the big money around this time and lunch with the true man who just sold more business
this independence thing I’m trying to get in touch with
having lost all of the yellow butterflies I’m in such a stupor
two after-dinner mints no worries about having to walk two stuffed e-mails being chilled it turns out having received several let’s see open their bits oh look a UFO having my 90-day probabationary period of driving force disappearing into an ugly blue then the wonder after dinner I’m ugly more than it disappeared being chilled it turns out the explicit walkabout too stuffed to worry
it’s the nature of the beast some folks can’t get enough I keep getting messages from the Almodovar in my bed if this is inevitability I’m having hot milk & honey who’s that keeps asking to leave my apartment for good it’s all about tops and tarts being treated like number one and starting to make a home
Some of the lemons (oranges?) have rolled down next to the Virgin Mary. Maybe they wanted to go to the Ann Arbor Art Fair. It’s been such a pleasant morning, though. I believe I meant to say there are no brown leaves. I don’t usually open my window so high, but the purple flowers in front of my apartment building are all blooming brilliantly, and now I’m able to hear clinking and nailing and bits of muffled conversation. It’s like I missed a lot of time and, in the process, got beat down quite a bit. Oh well, everybody’s got a twin pair of toothbrushes. I do have to drag things out of him, which is tedious. In fact, two nights in a row have left me wondering if I’m going to have to look into playing the role of Bob again.
Cedar Point on Sunday with little hairs of cat the weather was great the doves the pigeons hummingbirds robins won $20 with a raffle ticket when we settle down with someone maybe weekends aren’t all party party party but stay home cook wine rent movies and sit on the couch hoping maybe to get some time to reflect cotton candy clouds the middle of October new shoes tennis shoes shirts slacks shorts belt socks underwear
I fall asleep in Japanese today Sunday of this stupid echo and I spend myself dreaming once is all and now is nothing like days I don’t like the dull whispers of faraway cathedrals the choirs of how we are as a couple in two showers the soap stings my tongue which cannot find enough is a hurricane of the blue sky over a roseate hotel is a nice sense of place that you can call your own and someone else sets you aflutter
my newest Newsweek summer’s back got my fan on it’s even harder that I’m irreligious the yellow butterflies flutter around tomorrow I count boat parts he rolled over and I got on top “we’re getting married in a hot air balloon” counting the moles on his back 3 fish
how much green tea keeps me awake the lightning outside the cypress trees quite beautiful I’m reading Microsoft and well that really sucked my day I tried to explain to her that I never remember anyone but I’d gotten a mad letter and sent a picture of myself because I care oh well now we’re at the riverfront before the fireworks with our citronella candles next week we’re gambling visiting in-laws in Mississippi I want to be a photographer and a poet
haven’t written Warner Warner my 4th Brothers my 4th Warner Warner gothic nice candle my 4th my Warner grill-out my dead fireworks Warner Brothers my 4th nice grill-out dead dad my Warner my nice grill-out a gothic mix nice dead poems and stir my dead mix and Cleveland nice grill-out my dead dad see the fireworks nice grill-out mix three poems and stir haven’t written my candle my 4th my nice grill-out my mix three poems and a gothic mix my dead Cleveland nice Warner Brothers went to fireworks had a nice grill-out haven’t written shit
hair parted just so still as the cat looking into the well some freaks over the green box at the cafe tonight stuff i pricked Sunday you’ll notice Detroit is hysterical I’m not using games here Bing Crosby rented movies drove up to Detroit it’s Fleet Week Ms. Poetry Reading and I we picnicked on the waterfront turned out walked around the museum then Royal Oak my brother calling how old I am his ex-girlfriend died a couple weeks ago which turned out to be quite the event
nice people speaking other languages at 6:00pm and he hasn’t showed yet 6:10pm and there he is all fixed up in a Scottish cap that I can’t resist I’m still thoroughly confused about who he is we watch two scary movies in one night I open this month’s phone bill it’s half what it was last month on Saturday he was wearing a yellow honeybee shirt with a little zipper at the auction of Old West End homes where we kissed and kissed I just wanted to turn all the televisions off and vie for one of my neighbors’ parking spaces
things are pretty good I walk through the smoke and it finally happens they stop the music a guy in red pants rubs himself all over “go Thundercats” he says have I arrived or what it was just a blur in the cigarette room he asked me where I was I said I’m in Illinois wearing a Fila cap and a collar hair mussed a bit over the bill I even jive with the arts but I can’t tell which direction the refreshment is and anyway his soft hands are there you know so I give him $10 like I’ve never given before
last couple of days not great the cat stretches in front of the fan a powder I guess he said it’s the most fun he’s had all year I just stop the coffee and gather my wits in the mail another poem here I am just look the Thai food my haircut the big move the wackiness I feel justified when I put the collar on
