Thursday, April 02, 2009

Things to Note

Writing is easy. This is hard.
I can only write when I am alone.
It is devastating to list your own addictions.
My body is often smarter than my mind.
Wisdom can have an expiration date.
A year ago I knew less than I know now. A year before that I knew more.
The cat does not know why he loves the tabletop.
Music calms me when I wish to be calm.
I may never discover a good use for my time.

Monday, February 23, 2009

In the Fingertips

there is
pain here

what is
pain ?

pain is
wasted time

time i
ever spent
not doing
this .

Monday, October 06, 2008

There Was a Time

If you stare into the blacks of my
blue eyes you can see the front
of my brain. Can't you?

I know what you want to ask
me so go ahead and
ask me what you want to ask me.

What really scares me is how
easily I get tired and how
infrequently I get sick,

which makes no sense until you
consider that if I never get
sick I might die of weariness.

Side note: my eyes are whatever
color I say they are because
I don't think about them anymore.

But you look more amazing every
time I think of you and that
is something I do sometimes.

There was a time when I wondered
if it would be better to kiss
the smooth top of my own knee.

I believe you are going to come
right out and say you have
somewhere else tonight to be

and of course that is true, but
before you go ahead and say
that please just imagine blue.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

In the Nearest Future

before I started typing
I decided I had to get my glasses
headphones some candy clean the
dishes before I started typing
I thought about Divya and Sarah
and I couldn't remember if
Sarah had an h so I looked that up
and there was her voice which of course
made me stop the music and listen
with the ears I save for Sarah's
voice before I started typing I climbed the
biggest hill in Philadelphia on
my bicycle and sweated out almost
everything that was inside me and I
almost couldn't stop climbing
when Philadelphia ran out of hill before
I started typing I read of the
wildfires out West and thought about
pictures on the wall and the
painted shut window downstairs
that if I struggled and strained
and cared enough might open up
before I started typing I played
with the hair on my belly a candy
wrapper in my mouth changes to my
credit card agreement
in shreds before I started typing
I stared at the spines of books and
what did I feel nothing I felt nothing
I couldn't remember one word of
American Pastoral Invisible Man
Jacques Derrida and the Humanities
and I thought to myself this isn't
about books so don't write book
titles before I started typing
I lingered upon the best moment of
October 23, 2007 the glass of
water after the hill climb that
I almost couldn't stop drinking
and then I was choking and drowning
before I started typing I wanted
sex I wanted a thousand words before
I started typing I was a 31 year
old man with all kinds of weird moles
all kinds of alone with candy headphones
clean dishes dried sweat pretty eyes
before I started wearing glasses
before I started typing everything
fuck it everything that has ever
happened in my life had already
happened and I knew it was all mine
before I started typing it was
all mine to repeat to deny to regret
in any manner of my choosing before I
started typing I could choose Sara
or Sarah or Divya or a picture of Divya
and Sara in 2005 I chose to keep
in a box of papers defining ______
before I started typing I was
at a loss for words but it's too
late to go back now before I started
typing it was already too late

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Plain Awful Number 356

imperfect imperfect imperfect imperfect...
addicted addicted addicted addicted...
unwilling unable unwilling unable...
distant distant distant distant...
ashamed ashamed shameful shameful...

just plain motherfucking awful shit please friend blow the whole collection straight to hell for me because god knows i'm just not able to do it myself

Tuesday, October 02, 2007


Pull the chain and the
light goes in/out of you

Those last two words took
five minutes to write

And in that way weeks of
weeks keep passing through

As a hard metaphor for something
that should be said direct

Pull the chain and the
shackle rubs your skin raw

We can always go back
and change the wording

If nobody was listening--
God knows they weren't

This time the same as
that look that chain that history

Friday, September 21, 2007

Friday Night X

Tonight I unpack my books
Half of which I have only half read
Ten years ago or more
But everywhere I go the books go with me

Friday Night X

And in the decisions I made
That I can not defend
You will find me

Friday Night X

The muscles in my fingers
Remember more about the guitar
Than I remember about your body
(Which I may not have ever touched)

Friday Night X

The mess of my desk
Is what I would show you
If (and this is the only if)
You were with me somehow