I took the workaholic
dialog quiz, listened to Texas
country. Girls girls girls,
says Zambrano's in trouble,
but it's just the 4 bar fiddle solo--
Feel it floating away like the
anxiety can't speak floats in.
"Fuck off," I said, kind of an
accident, to the surfer coming
down his private dock. He'd said
"Good morning." The beach isn't
laid back if you live here. I said.
I said "I'm going to dress up
like Elvis soon," and everyone
A chance of drizzle apres--
GOD I AM BORED save
me from fake marble columns.
Assignment/project deadline due
makes a good day to wear read and you
think it's funny. Is that an
OK combination? My I heart
public transportation shirt is
home made, an undershirt shows
through, makes others angry
like my student wants to know
what the Biden part of Obama-Biden
means. I dunno. Stay cool,
little one. Bring your passport to
Rosarito and tell the director so
he can update the database.
Or, you could just make
that the poem / floorplan / teacher
Which is it?
Anthony Braxton riffs on the
only song my friend could play
on the piano. She was so hot.
Even with her face orange from
early experiments with early
self-tanner. Said it was
from a recent trip to Nepal.
The captions of the previous
commercial stay with the
next one and I think "love" and
"how do we say the experience
was rich?" You're telling
me the story of volunteering
at the rabbit rescue center.
We will listen everyday except Thursday. On Thursday we will watch The Hills. And that Jesus camp documentary. God God God and inadvertent swearing words. I don't know what death is like. How long has it been? How long have you not wanted to get out of bed? One minute to dinner.
This is the worst.
The worst that worst.
I want to dress like Cal Worthington and hoola hoop across the country somehow in tribute to Peace Pilgrim. The rest of this poem is censored.
read email awash in you
pardon sponge imitation
changed hair color and over bright retort
dinner table boxout awash in
secrets which are so secret
insult withheld here insert bland
excited comment about landscape
While discussing forgiveness I got sidetracked and though about the most recent roadkill a smashed raccoon in the bicycle lane near the lagoon and then imagined explaining my forgiveness to a friend who would think it was stupid. Or maybe not. Intuition
Can not seeing you be our date?
The dictums of nature are all about
splinter / I am foreign but not
nearly enough. I'd still rather be
murdered in the city than the
country where the offending couple
just dies or gets eaten. It was interesting
how they did some type reversal in some
small way. Some small method times types.
operatic--the gypsy in me! Sorry. Come
to mama. Maman. Baby, it's not baby, that.