Tuesday, March 29, 2011

does anyone suffer from being
too creative?

Monday, March 28, 2011

March 28th 2011

do you know why i haven't written any poems?

it's because i am too busy watching television.

i am not ashamed of this, however.

i am busy watching other people's poems
tell themselves.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Saturday March 26th

las vegas

"Never put your hand in your pocket;
that's a fireable offence."

i'm training, i'm breaking every rule

"i promised myself that when i survived Vietnam, i'd never sweat anything in life."

he didn't realize he was going to have all these problems

"i have problems
i have nightmares
it never leaves you."

you gotta be kidding me.

"you just adjust to it."

today really hit home -- the types of things they have to experience when they're at work.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

March 24th 2011

lament

i have to stop
eating
sugar.

March 23rd 2011

there is a crack in something sacred
it won't be healed
the pain repeated
anytime you process
what came before

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

March 22nd 2011

This is just to say
I have eaten
all of the Ritz crackers
that were there on the plate

which I should probably
have brought with me
to work.

Forgive me.
They were forbidden.
So salty
and so caloric.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

March 16th 2011

focus focus focus focus
focusfocusfocusfocus
focusfocusfocus
focusfocus
focus. focus!
focus focus focus focus
focusfocusfocusfocus
focusfocusfocus
focusfocus
focus.focus focus focus focus
focusfocusfocusfocus
focusfocusfocus
focusfocus
focus.focus focus focus focus
focusfocusfocusfocus
focusfocusfocus
focusfocus
focus.focus focus focus focus
focusfocusfocusfocus
focusfocusfocus
focusfocus
focus.focus focus focus focus
focusfocusfocusfocus
focusfocusfocus
focusfocus
focus.focus focus focus focus
focusfocusfocusfocus
focusfocusfocus
focusfocus
focus.focus focus focus focus
focusfocusfocusfocus
focusfocusfocus
focusfocus
focus. focus!

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

March 15th

everythingishappeningmuchmuchtoofast

Thursday, March 10, 2011

March 10th 2011

I would write a love poem
I but I am getting tired of those.
I could write one of nature,
charting this winter's long repose.

I could try a standard patterned one,
like a complex vilanelle,
I could attempt a sonnet or a haiku, or
one of those easternish gazelles.

Each day another poem
Each day another fight
to make sense of all these feelings
and all you can do is write.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

March 9th, 2011

i don't want to say good bye.

not yet.

not ever.

and yet.

it's been a long time coming, three months, nearly four, since the accident
and you've been suffering, we've been suffering
but i've been putting this off, this
"saying goodbye" this, "letting you go"

not yet.

and yet.

i can't keep paying the upkeep, the maintenance, on a body so badly damaged
i can't afford to keep you, splintered like you are
for sentimental reasons
my heart couldn't take it, either.

and so.

and yet.

and now.

it's time.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

March 8th 2011

地球上有70亿人,他们说,
如果我在一亿一
必须有另外7人


我。

一个生活在摩洛哥
一个是在俄罗斯
但我敢肯定在中国有五
虽然我不能肯定,究竟在那里。

Monday, March 7, 2011

March 7th 2011

it's like being stuck

in a sandwich

of doom:

this is what happens

when you purchase a house

built in 1929.

the walls cave in with moisture

and the ceiling collapses from damp

and the basement floods, waves of water rising steadily through the night


ironic

that you're being soaked out

considering you live

in the driest place on earth.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

March 6th 2011

we are trapped in this
snow cold wind ice suffocate
we cannot endure

Saturday, March 5, 2011

March 5th 2011

Communicating.

"I'm shorapling".

"What?"

We are on the telephone, each one of us holding one close to an ear. The wind is rushing, I can hear you breathing, I think you must be outside. I imagine you standing there, in the snow, without mittens, a cell pushed tight to your head.

"I'm shrapling," you say again, and I know you are getting frustrated, I know you are losing patience. We have been shouting down the phone like this for days now.

"I still can't hear you," my voice is straining, I can hear the wind, it is rushing on my end, too, and I want to understand you, I want to know what's going on. "Please tell me what you mean."

Please. Please. Please.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

March 2nd 2011

Almost Three Months

It has been nearly three months since we've spoken
Since we've exchanged words
language with concrete meanings

oh,


It has been almost three months since
I've opened up and let the feelings out
since I've spoken the thruth

I have

It has been much too long since
I've asked you to listen and yet
you've been waiting here all along

missed this


This is rough. This isn't ready. But it's here. I'm here. I never left
just hid away for awhile.