how do you do still

watching this very sad Spanish movie
I'm thinking of a you
wondering, did you ever watch them, things like these
& did you read subtitles
and lay on the couch alone
I thought of you today when I read that Raymond Carver story
called Fat
(how boys love their Raymond Carver)
how they've excuse to be witness
to the Great Calm Mess of
Us All
how they've permission to write
in a simple language
to be expressionless, loveless
nondescriptly appreciationless
you wouldn't appreciate this heavy European film, I'll bet
you're too heavy yourself
too Fat
too otherthanthis
I don't think of you too often, anymore
but when I do
I still fully wonder
for a time

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

squish

abdicate!

our minds have slippery sources, make slippery the secretions

they're hard to hold onto

I just gipped mine with dagger paws, tamping, tramping a bit

the jumpy little guy. Where you trying to?

I have a smile now, it's a lone one for me myself only. They listen to my words, they are my friends. They nod, I guess, but maybe they're stoned, maybe they've never been here before. I feel like my relations aren't hard to not. Can't you? Always begging the other to understand. Even if you don't agree... please please please understand me. I don't want to be a different language, a tongue tie. I amn't exotic enough to be the other. You're not exotic at all, but still you cling breathing your veil to be protected forever from things like me. I am. Wishful wait giveup girl.

things we talked about

eyes, colors, nausea, autumn, showers, blood, being Irish, come, stubble, being Turkish, being Canadian, lying, misuse, anxiety, border collies, language, love, fear, drinks, smoking, hands, feet, newness, comfort, guilt

just a couple of times

have an adverb, thoughtless

pretty little, 22 to 26


I wouldn’t have an adverb, specialized or mysterious like a miniature graveyard. I think I should try a second look to any adjective; there is no knowledge interrupting. New York, if passing unwittingly on the street, I am a guest. Language pulled over back east. Many pretty people shame information without saying a word.

I worked easily again. The average person walked across the street for a few months, fluently. And sometimes I’m sitting once again, resembling architecture. We walked in and simultaneously. I don’t know this little technique of holding our breaths. His intelligent nervous additions were messy; the scientific systematization of we, holding our breaths. Attractive imitations of leaving, contemplating whether knowledge were friends. Awkward or not, money that is owed scared him in the mood. Gun supported, we were scared and it was midnight. We both tend for tea. Ascetic, we held listening to share. I shall have to find another, characterized by hands and self.

Stemming from nowhere then, or perhaps suggesting. Walked up to one midnight, possibly his love. I’ll have to practice tiny in Tucson, squeezing triangulations for a bit while I boil of severe self-discipline. And a lime, do you think I shall. Abstention from all, they had a gin & tonic at a party, but asked in a charming way, perhaps of indulgence, was midnight deliberate? Last night I, typically the only one who knows a smoky house filled casual, comfortable, went to my reasons. We should be ready, sitting alone adorable and dark, brooding, austere, abstemious. I remember that, drinking a gin & tonic, confused because not sure if it was. Writing in her notebook, “…he’s ascetic. He once studied for the priesthood.” Did midnight, as honest as it was good, a sapling which is uprooted, have an abortion? Boise, charming as I remembered, is the right size accidentally.

Wearing white, deliberate, by the window. Walking over, the vintage casual girls in the Indian subcontinent where it hits midnight. Adorable brown hair that was cut monastic with a soft pfffat. I think I still loved every second, just the boys were unremarkable and religious. My mom had the most beautiful thing. Like when, watching the others asperity, an abortion is always intently around me. Rigor, severity, a roughness of his left arm. You must find renaissance still, alone. Unevenness gently over, when everything looks the same. Life, there wasn’t one, a tiny shoulder under a bland, overcast sky. Candlelight and orange could call up roughness of manner. I don’t remember bleakness. Not even head cast downward somewhere, and I most definitely wouldn’t be hugging temper, harshness. I was not positive, with fallow-sepia-fulvous colored eyes.

I wondered why he spoke again. Can you feel me. And he said then, I could, but this time with less asperity. Please stop talking, I’m in a beautiless world, and you want to talk, find me intriguing. The reputation, it’s really how it is for now. You want to talk about integrity, we can’t hear. I do look for and I was so tempted to get something, someone. Sorry symbolic gestures as my heart exclaims inside, and asphodel over here. The first dark morning, thoughtless, as it was.

"on labels"

I wish to say that I, unlike a computer, or a computer-speaking-language, cannot create such things of beauty as labels, searchable labels that can be alphabetized labels, oh.

Thanks for them, because my life is a better thing now that I can list words like in such ways. Fuck me with ideas a little less, and maybe I'd become pregnant with productions! 

ah