9/18/2020
My day began with the painful self-waxing of my underarms. Self-waxing is one of the many new norms of my life. And yes, I’m aware that I might as well be wearing a long silk robe with the back of my hand at head while splayed out on a fainting couch. Jonathan says that we will all remember where we were when we heard the news of Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s passing, but I don’t agree. We all remember where we were on September 11th, but back then we were naïve like children first realizing that our parents are people. I mean, personally I can’t relate to that simile, but it still makes sense to me. No, the memory of RBG’s death will swiftly be refilled by what comes next. Our democracy is a chocolate bunny, hollow inside and already missing its ears.
up thinking
When the night falls down on the day,
there's nothing left for you to say
you always want what you can't have
(up thinking not sleeping/dreaming)
you always want what you can't have
(up thinking not sleeping/dreaming)
After dark as it starts snowing,
we walk along not yet knowing
before too long we'll be more than friends
Now as we lay beneath the sheets
shadows on the window shade keep me
up with the sound of our hearts beating
wobble
When I haven't written for awhile, my words feel so wobbly. Like the handlebars of a bike that I'm riding for the first time in years, except that the lack of coordination is intellectual. I force myself to the end of each sentence, regardless of how poorly written it might be. I convince myself I just need to get the ideas down. But later, after I have saved the document and closed the screen, I lay awake in bed, fearful that I will die in my sleep, and this horrible piece of crap will be the last thing that I ever wrote.
cafe con leche
it's a starting line
drawn in the sand for you to stand behind
plan your course
keep your eyes aside from the ones that pass
you by
it's a starting line
drawn in the sand for you to stand behind
for the fastest time
keep on the goal you have in mind and not those
on the side
new song # 2
even sunshine, brings rain, when snow melts
down window panes
even sunshine, brings rain, when snow melts
down window panes
I'm worried about the trees.
It's been so long since they've had leaves.
And their not gonna bend,
when the wind comes and shakes their skin.
No their not gonna bend,
when the wind comes and shakes their skin.
I'm not gonna breathe
the air's too cold against my teeth
and I'm not gonna stand
to loose the heat from my hands and feet
and I'm not gonna fall
I've grown as tall as I can grow now
I'm not gonna fall,
I've grown as tall as I can grow now
even sunshine, brings rain, when snow melts
down window panes
even sunshine, brings rain, when snow melts
down window panes
tension then
i could feel the tension then,
in your fingers bent on my leg,
but it was easier to pretend
you would always stay.
destroying the haiku spirit
the bell jar descends,
it fits the whole country in
and the sour air sweeps
through the passionless streets.
with an obscured view, you
conform to consume, you
head off to bed-
save your questions for the end
the fresh air ascends
leaving you trapped within
this strip-malled town but the
moneys all run out
what will you buy now
buy now
the waves
push and pull the sand
till your footprint's
swallowed by the land
the end of the day
I wait for the day to end so I can leave here and return earlier again,
tomorrow. Borrowed phrases get me through simple movements of the day, when hello and goodbye are the only original things I have to say.
outside, the black branches against the white sky are the backdrop for my olan mills,
and even if changing scenery was that easy, I wouldn’t pull the loop attached to the stills to bring me closer to you.
I walk to the elevator that takes me down, then climb stairs to reach the ground, floor. I end where I begin, right there where you and I have been, many times before. Waiting for the engine to turn my car from cold to warm and this song plays while I’m thinking about making love to you. Sometimes when I turn the corner I think I see you shift uncomfortably in the passenger seat.
tell me that you want me to slow down. My glasses have fogged from the heat of my nose beneath.
I talk to you now as if you are dead, the ghost sitting at the foot of my bed listening to the end of my day when I’m taking off my socks and rubbing my feet..
