bucketlist

I don't have enough paper to excuse myself. cricket sounds, alone on your stoop. too date to, too summer to. L H D C. I met my date's unknowing mom today. I walked into his house expecting to find nobody and there is his mother sitting stooped in the kitchen seemingly hairless with a hat & shades & cane, and I introduced myself as my date's friend and she introduced herself as my date's mom. I went to the bathroom & thought wildly of laugh-saying, Oh so you're my new mother-in-law haha but I just said Excuse me and It was nice meeting you, afterwhich I afterwished I would have said, It was nice to have met you because I think this is a far pleasanter way of sharing the sentiment. I am not mad anylonger, feeling unjustified or afraid anylonger. I was talking to Chad last night about how I worry more that I am incapable of feeling Those Feelings anymore that maybe I am trashed & shredded more permanently than I'd thought, anymore. the feeling of not feeling being sadder than any feeling. that maybe I am a sad incapable husk of humanity myself, then. I think maybe I am just losing steam on it all, on everything & maybe I get whiffs of it back often like when I realize that my date has not one but two pianos in his house. & his cat eats my dog's food & my dog eats his cat's, etc. his script on his french homework. his tall bed. underclothes, wet from river, draped about. we're both buying blueberries, now we've only too many for a blueberry pie. I'll go extra & sadly to the yuppy store to buy noodles & corn & squash for you through my hate for the place, parking my subaru legacy outback, parking my collie at the Temporary Doggie Parking Zone. walking past the old white ladies lunching with biodegradable packages. my date has dad hair, I told him there was a fine silvery one & he wouldn't believe it, asked me to pull it out to show him. now he is whitehairless. I've about 9 different pretty iridescent hairs coming out from me. his record collection endearing. there are long shoes, the kind I'd have worn should I be stretched out longer. maybe I am tired from it. in my fantasy hotair balloon basketride. in my I'll make you dinner when I get Home. in my parents' house, and they say, You don't have to leave! We like you here! in your arms & you subtle say, Don't go, just stay & live with me, with your insinuated shared invisible chuckle. I'm blowing kisses at everyone these days. Amanda zipped it away for keeps in her pocket. my date caught one across the alleyway & threw up back to me. John Shinn & Bri stored theirs away like best friends can. I can see actively the shortening of days and my dad reminds me how shitty is Boise in November, that might I just leave then? a year ago today I was fastened to Matty & Kyle & Brittany & Nickey in sweat, blood, pus... oh, tears. it's all the same to us. I quit my job in Portland exactly three years to the day, yesterday, when I quit my job here. But I was out of town on August 4, like planned. that was then, when my buckets were all full. my future was inflated, helium'd. & now it is a solid wonder, but I'm sunk at the wonder. maybe my organs have flown grown away. thought I'd my heart back by now, but it's a wash & my wickerbasket is a frayed mop & I'm moping away in my girl reflection.

on today's date.... those muffled rofls

on today's date we thought of defining irony, we can tell the difference, but can we define it? we can tell the difference between it and coincidence, certainly. we went to the high note, and who was working but brett who said, You'll be gone by halloween, right? I scoffed a scoff meaning, Of course I will, yeah or maybe, God, I fucking better be. he told me it was our anniversary. I looked at him, not wanting to, and he said, When we met, and I laugh muttered Oh yeah, and he told me that sun blood stories is playing a show on halloween with wooden indian burial ground. when I met brett & andy we danced together at the wooden indian burial ground concert. It's ironic, said brett as he wandered backwards away. I looked at my date & told him how this is a perfect example of what irony is not. after, I thought to look into my diaries of yesteryear. this is what I found for today's date, uncut, uncensored, unedited. and all that's left is, Did I do that? 

monday 30 july

salt tears

& the worst cramping. Waves of pain, maybe I do have cysts all over my ovaries. Isn’t this sad? I will never be able to give this birth.  I’ve a new long-distance boyfriend called Justin Ryan Fyfe. A super-unfortunate first two names but I like the ys and the double fff.

LAVA
for magma

i am in lincoln nebraska
my heart only bleeds when you open it
i screamed gin blossom lyrics
at a bar in omaha
how much of what i say
makes it to you
i was excited to go through tunnels
in west virginia
on the way back from the beach
the ocean is terrifying
i haven't said a word
to my father in over a year
and he tries to kill himself
and that sort of thing hurts me
i don't want people to feel
sorry
i am sorry
please forviv me
yr turqouise
i am i am the shades of a wasp
i am smoked in
i am in SP CE
listening to third eye blind
writing you a poem
did you write today
i am 28
and i forget
to drink
water
will you math me
will you hold my hand at the edge of a mountain
cliffs or the beach or the ocean is sky
my eyes are barely no years old
but i hear
or i can't listen from here
the wind over nebraska
lifts the cranes to other planets
kyle to the moon
you can call me
or i dont know why anyone would
imagine being stranded on a desert island
with your southwestern kitsch
am i missing south dakota
how do you say coyotes
what color are the hills on the moon
all these 90s hits i hear
break my heart
break my heart
break my heart
with a hammer
with the fist of rocketships
i am dreaming of clean water
but i cant dig deep enough
the earth wont open
where i am dry
is it too late tonight
are we just going
to skip to the end
i am asleep
i just woke up
it's nice to see you again

This is a Justin Ryan Fyfe original, the first no, no not the first, Erwin I think may have written one for me. But yes, from a person who doesn’t know me. Kyle’s best friend from Lincoln, NE.

After work, now. Tim made me a delicious salad with coconut chickensalad & greens of all sorts. He then brought me a plate of strawberries, chocolate, and whipped cream. What?!?

I'm hung on coincidence, now. & so quietly loling

the luckiest girl in the new world (3/20/08)

I just got home in perfect timing, just between rainstorms. I stopped making fun of myself and said hi to my room, in a happy tone. I found the cat, invited it in, opened an aventinus, and gazed longingly into the shattered remains of my reflection. That last sentence was a joke! I am so funny! I forgot to laugh! Not! I am laughing! ANOTHER JOKE

I wrote a poem at you in my sleep but I forgot it instantly

there is always a you in the you I talk about 

spurts of months ago

acid wash

the act of being worn out

I dreamt I was to do the charleston in an auditorium of people but my dress was too long, and or I also was wearing pants beneath it (the long thin breaths in a bed beside me in real life) so I called, tiny voiced, Wait, and of course I'm dreaming of all of my bags and luggages, filled with things like ski pants, the hippest new threads for shredding the gnar-gnar on sale now in Hailey, Idaho. I parked my car next to the dancefloor and half an our of my changing into flouncy layered skirts I was asked to move it, I was skipped, relieved. I had sex with an obese black man who'd come from the Twin Cities to find me. some grandparents almost wouldn't let him in. analysis: I'm moving, don't know where I am have all of my things billowing from backpacks & car don't want to go skiing don't know black people lament for being missed don't know how to dance but want to be before a crowd

analrapist

therapist

it's overcast & so am I

at this internet cafe

fresh out of bed

fresh dirt sheets, chill out I'll wash them

we've jobs to do to end a vacation 

ants in the bedlam.

<no title> (2/24/13)

The cardigans! More on those sweaters... wait... what is that... it's like a sweater, but it's cut down the middle, or yours has holes now, and the scent is strong like me, and like old man

just kidding

o god what a joker! I don't care, I care. you don't care? good, I could care less. wait... I sort of care now. so do you. but suddenly you seem like you don't, so now I'm nervous. if you don't care, don't do it. if you do, I want to know. but I can't ask, at the risk of seeming like I care too much. you liked me because of my disinterest. safety for you through my disinterest. but what about now? how fucked we got.

<no title> (7/10/13)

Still hurting like scald hurting
In one direction
At you

<no title> (12/22/10)

I make feeling of the brain.  Mostly low-growing, the mixture of that sun and me tryless. A little frolicky. Belonging to the primrose, those strong legs of his. I’m a magnet for choking the mind outright.

I’m not family; I don’t like this like that. Making love, having tuberous rootstocks and nodding strong legs, I’ve been complemented often. A self promoting deprivation. In the alps with deer, white, purple, pink, I see. My ability to create such a young and early death. And berries, unfortunately, crimson flowers with reflexed petals, can get  pretty intimacy only just awhile. In that mindset.

Describing expectantly comfort with strangers, a life donated to my abilities. A circular boat so I can find severe athleticism. Here I am, viewed from inside.

I'm not in love with you

I am not in love with those who don't love patterns
with those who don't love onions
with those who don't smile
with those who call themselves boring
with those who don't want to come
with those who litter
with those who don't think I'm sort of beautiful
with those who won't constant clutch at my bod
with liars
with those who don't cry
with those who don't ask all of the questions
with those who write as badly as I
with those who drink from to-go cups
with those who don't love my dog
with those who don't love language
with those who don't get drunk on words
with those who drink too much, too often
with those who say, I don't care
with those who mutter, I don't know
with those who deoderize
with those who make excuses
with those who hide
with those who deny
with those who don't give it
with those untouchables
with those who don't hurt honest
with those who won't ride with me
with those who don't sleep outside
with those who watch me & aren't okay with it all
with those who
  just can't hang

raise me up

in haunting backs, smashed up
all of the compliments
I have to go visit my mom for some first time
I have a whole family
to share my pits with, my grub
to not smoke in front of
to smile at
to not get too shitfaced, to keep it together for
to let know my excitement
they might make me go rafting, or something
which will be pretty
it's one of the prettiest places on earth, Hailey, Idaho
I'll sleep under the stars, I'll read my kafka & my baudrillard & my sontag in lamplight
I'll think of your haunting back
long smooth brown, because I'm romantic like that
of your mouth, the prettiest part on you
with a mole on a lowerlip
Do you like it?
I do, I do
I compliment you freely, no one likes compliments
  because they don't seem free
I'll drive alone, no
just me, my brain riding in the scrub seat
I'll say goodbye
I'll say hello to a secret you
  when we last met in the tropical bed drinking rum, running our bodies out each other
  but that was years ago.
  and we're brothers again.
all of my brothers, then
  and I'll be the failed aunt daughter sister
whispering, bye byeing at Idaho
    you little sucker
bye byeing at the mountains & clear summer waters.
see you soon, future turn, let me let's go peacefully, wrap my brain up
wrap me good, my little passenger

sitting by the river being all proud of myself (truth)

I am homely, driving in my car
             waiting
how many words do you think are in my vocabulary
how many words do you think of me
  I'm too something to something
  some pre-you pre-yous I'm doing, I'm after
I'm tired
I'm sprinklers, I'm sprinkling under summer
I'm sorry, I'm out
my car will die
I'll need a jump
I'll dry eye the night
but I'll
  sing at the tops of me
Truth
  with its un
recognizable
bassclarinet
     goodbye
         I'm asleep
            & truly
         from the mist
         from the most severest place
       are my apologies

cruelbod

the teens are sitting on the bleachers at the highschool
but they aren't teens, anymore, basically 30 now
kelly is arched back in a vermilion haltertop
and tad lays flat, looking at the stars.
she graduated from highschool
and comes & drinks rose on ice
on the bleachers
she does reverse cowgirl on the bleachers
tries to pee between steps
as latenight athletes run the track.
God, why aren't YOU running with them, she accuses tad
who exhales smoke
and sips rose, ice clinking in his plastic cuppy.
I know, right
kelly sat with brody
on the highschool bleachers
when she was pushing 30, a couple of augusts ago
she was wearing a white dress and a denim jacket
and brody was drinking a big beer
he was trying to convince her to just drive with him all night to nevada
so they could get married
she thought that sounded like fun
but they'd just met the day before
and she knew they'd get sick of each other halfway there.
she never sat on those bleachers when she was in highschool,
just after she moved begrudgingly back after years away
and it was only twice, and past midnight
with guys named tad and brody.
kelly only fucked brodys, now
she was done with seths and aarons and todds.
she is feeling pretty superior in her vermilion haltertop
she is looking good, teenlike
she tells tad about the jeremy she'd been harassing
and tad tells her, kindly, that she's been humiliating herself.
she is gleeful
she doesn't care, has nothing to lose
she claims a lack of cruel organs in her cinnamon bod.
but she's a liar,
and pathetic,
and she's alone in life and she's mean
so she smokes & she chugs
& she takes her shoes off and pees freely.
she's got those good strong outside peeing legs.
she says Whatever
I'm Me
never growing up
just justifying her moves
with evil eye glimmers
and secret, hopeful tears

bros

boys letting girls drive them around in their cars
boys sitting on the beach with girls reading the thoughts of important french thinkers
boys kissing wet girls on the beach
boys wanting to be sober with girls
boys going to their parents' place for salmon
boys drinking and driving
boys making their cocktails with raspberries & mint leaves
boys referring to their cocktails as their cocks
boys letting their moms move in
boys with their phones in their pockets
boys anticipating a latenight call
boys inviting girls over
boys listening for the sidewalks to ring out with skateboard wheels
boys drunk driving
boys sitting with anxious girls in their arms on a bed
boys holding girls as they cry on their faces
boys telling girls all of the things
boys sitting on the stoop with girls
boys crying with girls, talking about being broken hearted
boys getting naked
boys saying, I want to fuck everyday
boys wanting to tell someone they love her everyday
boys falling asleep to the party
boys waking up kindly, with fondness
boys wondering if it will end soon enough

things we talk about

tunamelts
limbs
river
French
coffee
illness
plays
translation
college
white hair
regret
cinnamon tans
vocabulary
laundry
noise
New Orleans
cats
moving away
sex
brains
babies
shirts
periods
breakfast
sadness
money

in summer

on not getting real

how many daze
what happens? in july
what happens when it is suddenly subtle sad breakfast & walking to the river in the heat becomes tedious & tiresome
stop by a greencovered pond, a pretty mossy blanket teeming truly,
to say, We have to keep walking, I'm angry, I'm not in the water
and we got to the river, saying, Sorry for being an asshole
& you underbreathing, I don't care, or Whatever
sitting apart
wondering if we are..., if we are near enough too much
some silence
is this the sad starts
saying, You're leaving really soon.
I know. so. is it?
are we going to be? are we holding hands, will I reach constantly for you? is it growing
on me
in that sort of way?
the good admittance
the reaching around for arms
measuring limbs against mine
length of brown forearm & mine
You know my body intimately
Don't you know I'm all legs?
spidery, leggy smooth thing
Feel this branch, instruct
worn away, green & fresh
rub on it together
I'm just moving in
later, the big dipper barely hazes over
I am good at the sad afar, keeping it
somewhere in some future
for now, just brains simple enough, bodytruth
plain beauty
nothing further
no worryables
these are the subtle anxious dudes in us
acceptances, all of the who-cares whatevers
  to share

I just gave birth

I just gave birth and I'm high as fuck
hell yeah I wanna party
well I want to sit in the sprinkler in front of your house
I want to bring you a card on the front of which reads,
You made a choice
and inside
But it was a child, it wasn't actually a choice
you are actually my inspiration
and now, my thinspiration
imma take some tit pics
& take them to LA
& be like, Dr please, I'd like these ones
oops I didn't finish my beer before I opened another one
Does that mean I'm doing this right?
we're like real babes in this world
the real natural babes
doing what we want
how we'd like to
stuff in, stuff out
let's get those good drugs
let's put them all over us, in us
let's rocket ourselves
enunciate our worths.
I love you
I love you
I love you
& I'll never tire of saying it.
I know you're the best
so here's to years and upwards of forevers together
  to never letting the parasites in our brains
   to never have any unworthits about us
       four more years
   to fortymillion more years
that's the fucking love about us
 

i have a swimming pool, you should come by

18 ft long
9 ft wide
a giant couple in neon green leaves the bowling alley
presumably headed to eat ham & cheese sandwiches
I'm a jerk
I'm making this woman do a cannonball in my mind
tidal waves, letting her thousands of grandchildren surf the day away
how do you get a swimming pool, I want one
I bet I'll meet one in new orleans
I bet I'll meet some mystics
& crafters of witchness
nickey, chad & I
we'll have to find our fourth
from the corners of a bright bluewatered rectangle
Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers of the east, one of us will call out, disinterestedly sipping a mint julep
We hail you

I'll b your crying shoulder

love's suicide? I can't remember who does this song
but,
regardless:
your fingers and wrists and hands are waking me up
up inside me, waking up
sweatless, sweetsmelling
my back the length of a bridge
foot me
I'm covered in it
I want to wake up your breakfast
I like the sitting under stars in perfect summer
what will I have to talk about when summer's over? maybe it will all be over
haha I'm not sad, I just don't have anything to say
haha
I'll bet you're a nevercry
I like your eyes downcast
boylashes
symmetry face
gaunt
like a balloon letting out
up high in your kitchen
I found gift certificates for a hot air balloon date
they expire in december of this year.
they were written out two decembers ago
when this summer wasn't invented yet.
you said you would try to buy them
from your basement roommate who teaches churchy preschool
I am not dressed churchy today at all
but I'd be churchy if we took a balloon date
I won't be here in december when the gift dies
but I'd get up early
make some mimosas or something, whatever you drink in a balloon
I'd like to do it in the air
but some old man will probably be there, so
I doubt it.
I'm a fun float date, I'd guess
I like the fantastic world
I can be a good time in it, above it
I took a hot air balloon ride once, over lake tahoe
above the epic deep turquoise
so let's sky before our summer dies
rightly

can't crush your dreamz

I had to run home last night from the bar
and by run I mean melt-stumble
and by home I mean the car
and by last night I mean very early this morning
I didn't order any drinks, drank water for hours
but I got time-lapse wasted on the tequila we drank in the car while listening to Nickey's summerjam playlist called "niki". we chased the tequila with
1. an old tasteless apricot, textured like vomit
2. a pistachio
3. soft huckleberry wine
I was on the back patio of the bar, the front was offlimits for us
it was being haunted by many ghosts
ghosts with eyelashes & concave chests & doublechins & combovers & depressants
I got up from the table, I was alone
buttice had to watch the punkband
I can say buttice's name, here because he'll never read this blog
I got up from the table because I was drunk & tired
and I knocked over all of the furniture
and I bashed shin to fence
and I was glad no one was around, I'd of been 86'd for sure
I wished we were friends
that our hugs weren't forced, or awkwardest
bc I'd nosed his neck before
but that was may. remember may?
I'm a way bigger care-less, now, anyway
but still trying to be care-full
I crashed in the car, woke up to mosquito bites all over
I guess I'm ready to be swamped
I'm ready for someone to call me
lovely, or wonderful
but the former is my word, the latter yours
& I'm becoming jaded by inventions
so I'll recline in the whip, with the dogs, with the bugs
with oilhair in my brain
tearless. I don't readily cry about it anymore.
& my own detachment from sadness
might be even sadder to me
than all of the sadness I've been desperately trying to dissolve from me.
you JUST can't win?
  lol

sunday crowd

the sunday crowd at JO BEACH is suuuuper lame
they have their fullbred retrievers
who fetch consistently, barkless
get in get the ball repeat
BOR RING
they don't realize that I come here every single day,
that I get in the water
and I smoke smokes
and I drink cocktails
and I publish things I write on my phone to the internet.
they're sunday people, weekenders
they work all week & then come cut loose on a hot summer's day.
it just isn't right
I pull out the blankets and sleep through storms on my beach
I get naked at night
I makeout, here.
while they sleep, I stake my flag in the sand.
but they're easily scared away by the exaggerated sounds of orgasm while two girls struggle to open a bottle of soft huckleberry wine.
poof! it's our beach once more

on the clock

finally & see everything
I'm alright with my voice enough
  just us, hear the sound around what I make
can be a beautiful music
or a beautiful temperate weather
material list,
eternity ring lessness
this is how we do this is how we
  justify
making all that money
  standing around with a beer in my hand
  standing all over the place with hands and my beers and my limbs
  if this was a poem that would write itself
I'd be in the echo room
I'd be the coolest echo in the room
but I'm a remaining here, now
I'm a present here, now
but my room is so vacant
and so gorgeous
I wish I could
sure you
what's inside with you?
I didn't me, don't me
  to find someone who wants to be
    inside
I'd ME two
I dare me to
sometimes I look at myself in the mirror
and sometimes I think you'll love me

growfup

beat up baby, wakeup on the floor
a year from today I won't be
I'll cut my hair, I'll be 30, time to be reasonable
I'll be an ex- most everything
an exsmoker, exgirlfriend, excryer
in a year I'll be in a subtropical environment
an exidahoan, exlover
excinnamon-tanner
exkid & exfloor-baby.
I'm loving this floorchild lifestyle
floor power
we move where we move, roll around
bathe in the river
get those strong arms
in a year from now I'll be benchpressing the world
they'll watch my tender brown muscles twitch & release
and there will be gratitude
in honor of my new strength.
a year ago I was caught in a jam
humid sex cave
living on the floor, out of the car
it must be a boise thing, the abundance of
floorcribs & car bassinets
I'm just barely strong enough to lift me out
but that's why some people get cars, right
rentless & mortgageless
a year from now my seas will be calm
& I'll float in that clean cast
like otters do with their kelpbed kiddos
stormless, contented
because childhood ends
& the myth of suffering subsides
& the broken will be trashed & forgotten
& I'll be grown & help
filled

married

the only thing that really makes my hearts heavy now, is the river
it is the cleanest emerald & cobalt & turquoise river
& it runs right through my town
it's there every single day
it's hot outside, and sunny every single day
so I am in it
& in it's in me every day

I was just sitting there, drinking a pacifico I borrowed from my dad's fridge
I got under, swimmingdress on, coconut oiling hair
just dog & me, and that's when I realized I couldn't be sad about a thing
save for the extinction
of me in the river, of our beaches
  JO Beach
&
  Hella Beach
and that's all
I want boise to drift into the ocean all of the time
I want the city to shrink & dissolve
I want the highdesert to crush it
I want the sage to take over again.

I don't love you anymore, place, my nostalgia has evaporated.
because I've been in you too long.
and now I will leave you and I might
come winter
have missed you enough
for you to squish my puffy heart.
I'm going to the asshole of the great muddy
there won't be my clean clear water
& it will be hot, & I will be wet
with my coconut oiled hair
and my tender aging skin
freckles > cinnamon tan
& I'm not going to escape you,
but to
  reacquaint myself to the big true love.
I don't have to call you to tell you how I feel.
I don't have to tear myself apart in bed
in blood gorges
to prove it.
because we're inevitable
this is called forever since before I started
using the word as context for everything.
till death do us,
 we unavoidable
  be doing it together.

wussy

I left the party after I flushed that goodfood down my throats
I couldn't find my keys, they were obscured by the watermelon half on the countertop
it was getting dark, they were shooting off the works
the hills probably caught fire somewhere

when I was a kid we'd go to my grandparents' house for the 4th of july
my dad and his friends would get all of the illegal fireworks from ontario
ontario: no law
and we'd sit on blankets
while they got drunk
and lit up the hillside
the trucks would come
and spray the sage and the grasses
and shake their heads at my dad & his friends
whose heads would hang in semi-shame
but we'd all been having a good time, so
it was always alright with everyone

I left the party to go find kyle & matty
I drove up 8th street all the way until the road was a parkinglot
some dj booth was playing rave jams
and my friends were calling out Molly? Molly? Where's Molly
and everyone said, Yo, you looking for Molly?
kyle threw up along the hillside, fell down
matty & I were laughing at him
and matty fell down on him & I think they were wrestling
then they went home with some girls.
I shouldn't have been driving
I reversed too hard & slammed the car into the hillside
on kyle's vomit
and I drove with an eye on the winding road
because I'd been promised a date
with condoms & beer
so I had to get there

I came home but my date never showed
and I read things I shouldn't read, and I laid down in front of kari's club
and I was crying, and yelling quietly about it
voicemails
I told my date not to do that anymore
and he said, I really like you
Do you still like me?

we had breakfast
we talked about opening up
about closing up
about things ending for us, individually
but we're just a Date
so we never have to worry about
Us
at all

I'm no wussy
I'm willing to tear it down
as long as it's straight at me
and honest
why should I be crying about some girl
letting some girl tear me down?

I'm alright. I've got a sunburn, finally
and I have someone to kiss on a beach
a good listener, a slow responder
but a responder, nonetheless.
so I'm doing fine
I'm doing a lot better
than some, out there
because I am fucking righteous
and I'm brave
and I'm beautiful
& young
& dope & proud
and that's not just my '90s american flag tank & neon bikini talking
the freeflowing justicefull flag of my stoic disposition
and my unforgiving neurosis
flying me futurforward
and foreverwards
till death do me apart

badbrain

we're having a conversation in the middle of the foothills, right now
you know that, right? we did
we fucked them all
bye bye out of mouth and I
make underbreathed promises to self about
  who is I really?
what kindof a name is Ammon
it has many favorites
I'm a collector of letters, by the way
God is a collector of prepuces, by the way

I'm sorry
  again
I'm waiting for someone to come to my house
on the porch
on the battleswing.

cplofe

xplode
I got those him and chicks
I've got that puppy pooper for a 7 Phone
I have the roundabout way of party
I'm here its a fourth of July
I've got money on bikini and got my cinnamon tan. cinnamon 10.
I forgot about your dads hot head I PA Steve knows how to roll.                    
what amount
watermelon p****
I got a s*** ton of this s***
I said ship not what a b****
too many cusses
free very very uncool very very very uncool

jaded pinkett-smith

in highschool I had an acquaintance named Tjaden
  the T was silent
she was a teen raversomething
she wore big nylon ufo pants
& glowbras
& she'd get on all that ecstasy and twirl glowsticks
her boyfriend's name was Angus, he thought she was the hottest thing in the world.
he told Kari once that it's slutty to wear both eyemakeup and lipstick at the same time
Tjaden taught him this.
I never knew that makeup had anything to do with promiscuity
but I did notice that Tjaden (we'd always pronounce the T when discussing her) would usually be wearing both
so
was she slut-shaming herself?
what a shame
I think I might be
shaming, sometimes
but I never call anyone a slut, in seriousness
it's not a real word, it's an imaginary thing
I've told this to Kari on numerous occasions
bc sometime she shames herself in this way,
  though she'd never do this to anyone else
I think I am used to it
getting used to the what-does-it-matter
who-cares vibe
of those around me
I'm learning to be expectationless
maybe
maybe this is something I learned from you?
maybe I have something from you
  to be regretless about
or am I just
so terribly used to everything
that whatever life sparkle is dulled
and stimulation
falters, falls short of me
& I'm afloat in the who-cares
& the idgafs
until I punch my body back
to the no-it-matters-terribly
oh when will I see YOU again

for you

#9

yellow flesh on me
first fragile fixer
up me, in me, broken brain


#20

where did you get me
is it in, did I
come? tell me did I do that


fragile thing. pick you up put you on me
darling thing, did I brain at you too hard
did you inject me with laugh
did you wake me with pain, at boring no did I
were you the real sad
were you extinct, even then
did I try to crawl away
did I try to fix your broke bod
don't I remember the superface of superficial
don't I tear a little at giveruppers
masks &
masks &.

oh it looks like something bad happened to you

summer just started, the days are getting shorter
I fell asleep by the river last night, by myself, on the lavender lisa frank leopardprint blanket
it was a storm all around
through my eyelids
lightning
and I counted the seconds between it & the thundercrashes
remembering the movie poltergeist
and the movie jurassic park
but I don't know about the science, there
it was maybe 95 degrees, all I talk about is the amount of degrees I know
I am a varying temperature
I am trying to let my hair grow around my face, around my body, root in the sand
I am always taking the beach home with me, too
it feels secret
it feels like stealing
all of the ancient piss to take
I was dreaming, a little when the phone rang my stomach
and I was with child
it came & it became naked & it dove into the cold dark water
and then it began to rain the fat
allover the trees we can identify like cottonwoods & maples
& those we can't
the fat drop drums
we had to go, we had to go
to the yard
to make a bed there
to brandnew naked babes, there

are you selfboring, you can identify
that
are you identified friendless by your boring
are you okay with all of that
where's your girlfriend?
you mean, beside you
Hi, girlfriend
get in me

it's waaaay tooo western sad here
the universe is flashing relationships at us
fisting at us
& saying, This is what you are, you know
This is what you will be should you be
& I am solemn faced in slight knows
  I'm out
  & about
I'm shaking off the splats,
shitting sand from my shorts
pulsing out your water
sweating out of all my numerous little holes
exfoliating to scratch me, myself
pushing the pullout
letting the bites scab burn dry wither welt pus
my style

hotcruster

a couple of women came into the coffeeshop
one wore a shirt reading,
  DUCT TAPE HAS 1,001 USES-
    toilet paper isn't one of them
she carried a tote bag
on it was printed menopausal wine puns
LIFE IS A CABERNET
LIFE, LIKE WINE, GETS BETTER WITH AGE
and
LIFE'S SHORT, LET'S WINE
her huskyvoiced buddy tried to order a rum & coke, but we don't serve that here
so she
asked for a glass of chardonnay, as she puffed on her electronic cigarette.
today a lady complimented me on the grubby bandana I have hanging from my neck
I laughed, thinking she's
probably never seen something so dirty
but she can't smell it, so
it's a nice statement (her words)
I went swimming last night at 9
topless, in the 109 degree sunset
the air cooled to a temperate 98.6 degrees
the same as a sweltering jungle
but for me, it was only perfect
I sat there, with friends
with a corona, of course
thinking about being 30 & loving coronas
& being 30 & loving the eagles concert I'll be attending
I said goodbye to ian
until we take our northwest tour
to olympia, to portland
to goodbye the rainforests
but right now I can't keep open big dryeyes
I like the heat in idaho
in july
it's 106 degrees
I like the sad you
but that makes me sad
it makes me sad that I want you to be
because I'm the jerk
want your asuffer
I want my friends to visit me at work
the sad one, with the sad life moment
and the tall one who makes me feel Good
the superficial kind of Good
because I've given up on That, for now
& I'm cool
with just swaying timelessly through the heat of the days
my claws withdrawn in cottonball paws
but I want to get scratched, a little
through the skin beneath the surface
in the ancient long nights
in the grass with you, on blankets beneath streetlights with you
because I like to be surprised
to be given a feeling of any sort
an alive kind of sorts
trying to keep my big eyes big
so no crust to calcify me shut
I won't shut
up
until I bleed
in some eventuals,
and I will
I will
I so will

2:49 am voicelog

the even like you
fleshbrain
sketch my feet in the sand
wait for me I'm on the salon
laying here legs outstretched feet taking
a little diff in the forever from forever ago
I wanted to read you but then I remembered
that I don't even like you anymore
but if we're still on there, that, I like me more
everybody knows I like me more what's not to like me more
so I'll try
with my voice with my feet in the sand
I'm out so its legs pointed toward the river
to the dark water and the swish of it and the glow from the streetlight
in the dark of everything in front of me from the trees below to me
waiting for someone to show up so I'm not around here
anymore
surprise me forever for the middle of nowhere
come at me in the dark of the water
learn me learning tell me
your whole thing to me stories
we're at the gas station what are you going to get
I'm going to pick up some beer and some condoms
do you need anything
no I think I'll be fine thank you
its 1:42 a.m.
I'm standing in the light at the Maverick
I'm watching our bikes
I'm watching that easy cab
listening in the lights the gas pumps, right musics
deal homeless in the cars with a truck
  fun sounds on
its 1:43 a.m. and I'm still standing in front of the matter
what you get at me now
your pain in the grass
I'm sitting at your picnic table in your yard
at the stars come out
we'll have a beer and the end of it
what's going to bed now
you and I
the morning jinx me
good time on that long
long night with you
I don't cry dude
dude I'm a dude
I wouldn't say anything in front of you
Evernote
music notices me hiding
let me stand, boy
I'm to end
catching
me, you never will