blah

May 30, 2007

hum drum

i don’t miss you as much today
which isn’t to say that i don’t still miss you
but, you know, sometimes it’s easier than others,
and i can laugh about myself a little

i like my new job.  my boss is very nice.  the restaurant is very handsome and clean.  i can see the sunset over the back deck, and when it’s warm and sunny people can sit outside and eat.

the calamari, i’m told, is excellent.
i can vouch for the sweet potato fries.

i feel a little bit enclosed right now, wrapped up in white linen sheets and graduation gowns.  tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, the days are seeming to grind past gratingly setting my teeth on a bitter edge.  there yet?  there yet?  there yet?

something aches and it’s not you being gone.
more like i’m missing the lake, and the wind off the waves, and the way the island lights glittered at the horizon line.  i miss Drew pouring shots of brandy and mixing drinks and Gordon carefully packing his bowl, miss lying out on the marina with my toes over the water lying back blazed, so fucking stoned i can’t even see straight and the sky is so lit up and nothing seems to need to make sense except for the way the stars keep flying past me overhead.  

somedays are better than others.  
i didn’t even realize i missed the lake so much.

fuck.
there’s so much to do.

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cutting keyholes

May 27, 2007

i –
well, it’s just that
i miss you
very much
and 
i am not content
to have holes in 
my life, i am
not happy
i miss you 
so so so so
much
when it smells like
rain, and growing things
i can breathe you in
– you are 
here
(when 
i don’t know where
you are)
and even if we can’t
be, i still 
love you
just as much
as i never knew it
was possible
lying in the 
grass, the stop lights
flashing.  i’m wearing
the keyhole 
you cut me, i 
wear it always.  i
sometimes
run my fingers over it
i wish it would cut me.
do you wear the key? 
i gave you
(not willingly,
no, you held that key
without a choice, it only
needed to be placed 
in your hands)
everything
every
little
thing
reminds me of you
and God,
what i would give to see Your face.

pretty please

May 25, 2007

i would like
(if i may)
to run away
for just a little while;
just a couple of
minutes
or
maybe a few years, or
just an eternity, perhaps.

if i could
get out
no, i don’t mean it
that way;
i just mean that sometimes
things, well, they press down
so hard
it seems so juvenile
but i would like to break
out or break 
away
or just keep
going
until i can be back where 
i thought i was
somewhere it is
not waiting, exactly
but it is there all the same.

nothing

May 25, 2007

restless tonight, and
maybe
i think i
don’t know why
it’s the wind
you know
how the trees are hissing
and the skies
oh! that purple
bluish blackish 
light 
pages and pages
papers and things
wondering where tomorrow’s
going
too tired to think of sleeping
just –
nothing
i am back to where i was
not so long ago
when you were gone then,
too,
and i think 
there must be a way to stop 
being
in love
because how else can i keep on 
?

and
p.s.
i almost cried today
when your face was hard to see.

hurry up

May 23, 2007

i’m getting a job.

i feel kind of stuck these days.

i miss you

(but you might not be who you think you are)

we still have eleven days.

where would i be without my music?

je n’ai pas peur de la route,
faudrait voir, faut qu’on y goûte
des méandres au creux des reins
et tout ira bien

le vent l’emportera.

ton message à la grande ourse
et la trajectoire de la course
a l’instantané de velours
même s’il ne sert à rien

le vent l’emportera.
tout disparaîtra –
le vent nous portera.

la caresse et la mitraille
cette plaie qui nous tiraille
le palais des autres jours
d’hier et demain –

le vent les portera.

génétique en bandoulière
des chromosomes dans l’atmosphère
des taxis pour les galaxies,
et mon tapis volant lui –

le vent l’emportera.
tout disparaîtra –
le vent nous portera.

ce parfum de nos années mortes
ceux qui peuvent frapper à ta porte
infinité de destin,
on en pose un, qu’est-ce qu’on en retient?

le vent l’emportera.

pendant que la marée monte
et que chacun refait ses comptes
j’emmène au creux de mon ombre
des poussières de toi –

le vent les portera.
tout disparaîtra –
le vent nous portera.

(Noir Désir)

rumble

May 20, 2007

my whole body hurts,
but that’s what you get for playing contact sports.
sore.
and we lost, of course.

mostly, though,
tonight i’m just missing you
when what i really want more than anything
is to never miss you again.

pros & cons

May 15, 2007

good things: 
the third ward
rain
bottles of riesling
slouchy pants
watching Dr. Zhivago instead of doing homework
sweaters
french onion soup
postsecret.com
lace curtains
keys
French music

bad things:
being rear-ended
being late to an interview
17 days of school left

today

May 14, 2007

ahhhhh!

(my knees hurt)