go on, push delete, I dare you.

WOW.
So many days, so damn many.
I came in here looking for a quick fix and then an even quicker exit.
Suddenly I watch every step I take, I listen to myself breathe,
I use windshield wipers to excess, I wonder if I just said fuck,
I wonder if you're looking and for how long-
it only takes a second.
WOW. I've been having acupuncture, I've become a teacher,
I've decided to stay home on Saturday night for the rest of my life-
does that sound sad?
I'm actually very happy. I'm happy to report that I'm happy.
I'm happy that this word is available to me right now.
WOW.

expecting pt. 2

rain poured down beauty for half an hour at least and
everything is better afterward.
i watched a movie that made me cry,
no big feat. even seen it before.

expecting rain

as if I don't already sort of channel my mother involuntarily, for the next two weeks I am in charge of the domain that is hers. It's a little bit mine too, but really, it's hers. here are my duties: love & care for the dog, keep the plants hydrated, love the dog some more. incidentally the little brown girl is splayed out beside my chair as I type this; her proximity means I'm doing my job well and we have no love lost whatsoever.
in between tweaking cover letters & resume & teaching applications, paired with asking myself why I don't have a job yet and also WTF was I thinking for choosing this new career, I putter. I drink coffee early, I take the dog for a walk, I look around the yard as if for something. I eat, I read, I take the dog out again. I do some work and get frustrated and wonder if the dog's bored. I wonder if I'm bored too. I get the mail, remind myself to take the trash to the street tonight, fold the sheets and leave the side door open because a storm is coming.
it's fast and hot, the storm, but the thunder is righteous and it means I won't use the hose tonight in the yard. It'll keep. I'm thinking about the psychology of weather and how it seeps in, makes a little space inside of you. is there anything wrong in wanting to know what's coming?

rebirth of cool

My fingers smell like basil and garlic. I drink a PBR, my third perhaps, and for this evening my last. I read snippets of grammar rules, skulk around on the webosphere and itunes and cue up Miles Davis.
"What are you trying to do here?"
Well I made dinner. For dessert I push forward, lick the leftovers and inspect my nails.
"The dishes, the clean-up, who does this? What do you mean, push forward? Where?"
I'm telling you I don't know.
I've been taking a lot of yoga and thinking about mortality. It's so huge, isn't it?
"I'm asking the questions here. Seriously. You take yourself so seriously."
No.
Yesterday I got sunburned. I spread out my limbs in the lukewarm Bay like a starfish. I ate potato chips and watched television. No.
"Do you get it? How over-used the phrase 'get it' is? C'mon. Give yerself a break."
Thanks.

summer of our discontent

we try to eat out, just a dingy pizzeria on a weeknight, and it stinks.
we drive past sagging strip malls and people walking the streets
in slippers and frankly, that stinks too.
kids ride in the middle of the road two to a bike, a cop gives me a ticket
in front of my own house for rolling through a stop sign, and we wonder
if this all doesn't just sort of stink.
the kicker? two half-assed rounds of leftover fireworks from last Friday night.

and we are what's sagging and dingy and leftover and we are what stinks
and we are what stinks
so what happened to us? again & again we begin
again & again we
begin

nevermind.

went through a pile of many books recently and re-discovered a favorite,
rather unknown, poem. i'll share it now because i've nothing else 'cep
for salt water and humidity and naps...
I just instantaneously changed my mind. It was my poem, I found it-
and it will remain there on the shelf. How can you really know why something
spoke to you so much when it did? Were you sad that day

did it remind you of something that you couldn't take back?

Anyway. anyway. anyway. I'll go back to the beach. It's where
I might find something worth sharing

full steam ahead

saw a ferris wheel on the side of the highway tonight
resplendent in its extraordinary-ness
heard a lyric that went something like this: we are all
a burning building with no one to put out the fire
what do you do with all that overblown shit
what do you do with a phone call from one childhood
friend telling you another childhood friend has died
i don't even know any of them any more, but i will not
go to funerals, i will not.
it seems we are choosy and selfish with our sadness
and right now i feel fine.