half a man

      if I only had one arm to hold you
      I would hold you at arm's length
I did cry a lot yesterday, this morning
I was a baby, it was probably 100 degrees when I woke up in your bed this morning
I was a baby when I left the bar
because I couldn't find kyle anymore
but he found molly
just not, me, molly
just the right molly
and I was angry that he left me there, the ravers allover the place
I was in the alley and I was walking and a guy chased me down
and said, Can I walk with you
but I was already done walking
so he said, Can I sit with you
and I said, No
and I was thinking, in what world does this make sense?
when does a girl ever chase a guy down an alley to ask if she can walk with him?
I mean, what?
some other guys sat down, and I let them talk to me because they had whiskey
so I drank a lot of that
and I wasn't so mad
but then I had to leave, and I was drunk
and I was sobbing, I had to take my glasses off because I couldn't see
and I was yelling a lot at myself
I was pretty mean to myself
and I was mean to kyle
and I was mean to the others
so I went to the other bar to see what I could see
and I got a cocktail & put it into my jar
and I called one
and he said he would meet me at the river
but then I got caught by some conversation
and I was laughing, not crying anymore
and the basque man followed me
and I gave him my number
so he could text me the most offensive things he could think of
because neither of us gets offended
and then I did chase someone down
we were walking the same way
we talked about making espresso
and about art school
and then I went to the river, and found that one walking toward me
he'd been waiting for half an hour for me, I felt badly about that
we went to his house
we went in there
and we were in, for hours
and I was glad
I had stopped crying
until this morning, when he got out of bed
because he is passionless & silent
and I was wondering where all the feelers are
where are the ones like me?
I left, he didn't know I'd been crying
he doesn't know about my bad brain
he doesn't know anything
he doesn't know that I write about him sometimes
and that I am more than I let on
but I'm glad I got some human touch
some human struggle
some interactive strangers
some surprise journeying between tears
and it's hot
so I'm going swimming
and I think the tears
are done for the day
WHEEEEWWWW
thank my brain is starting
 to grow back a little

"and a liar... and pathetic..." (6/12/13)

I found you. I will find out everything about you, too. You won't know, because I am an invisible thing

I am a thing you know about

but really you don't

because you've never met me, never will remember me

Isn't it fun? I would ask you

To be an unreturnable?

to think you haven't a thought about it. I am a wish spyer

I will pay extra close

any amount of $$, silently

like I'm a wall

but I haven't any walls like you.

I guess this is where you live, then. So this is your place? god what a scum place you've made into

What are your walls made of? Where are your softspots.

How do you even say my name like that, when have you ever said my name

I've heard you say it aloud, in some past

we were living in a present then

I gave all the presents I could think of, still do

I have already taken myself back

I have been taken aback.

but I'm hanging on the walls

a crack

in your softwood, grosswood, moldwood

you are a fat disgusting wood, tall & forward & upright barely

I have to go to work

and pretend like I like to be there

everyone, no not everyone

most everyone has a problem like this, you know, with work

unless you like to do what you're being paid to do

but who does, who does figure this out?

I ate too much salad, which is funny

because salad is so little, so good-for-me

and I am pretty little, I am pretty bad-for-me, though

Was I worse for you? when I existed

Why am I the only one asking all of the questions, here?

Why am I the alone interviewer? How will I get my articles published? 

without the answers I'm needing

I don't know.

I don't like where you live,

 I don't like YOUR grub

it's a gross grub

and I don't blame them for not wanting you

I don't wonder why they won't

and that doesn't leave me with questions

so instead I will just sit here & interrogate

myself

the world

the seasons

the wind

I saw the moon again, it's back

and I can't wait to interrogate it tonight when I get off of work

I'm going downtown

to paste up a portrait of Carl Sandburg in some ugly boise alleyway

and a portrait of Mark Twain on some gross streetcorner

and a portrait of Walt Whitman on jamba juice or something, I D K

but first I have to find a paintbrush, and a roller, and I have to make some wheatpaste

and I have to care to

rather than to not care to

and during all of this I will be asking the questions, here

I will do all of the talking

at the moon, or whoever you are

and I won't be answered (maybe)

but the last time we spoke

you actually did answer me

you reminded me why I've never loved you, & why I don't love you now

because there are Actual people in the world

who are Actually there

Actually available

who Actually, Actually give a shit 

about something other

than some decrepit broke shell 

for inhabiting

that's big enough only 

for your brokenopen egg

because nothing else exists to you

save for alone

& sad

& miserable

& longing for longing for who isn't longing back at you,
backwards glance garbagehouse

6/12 3:16 pm

jerk

so I think the universe
  is trying to get something out
I think the universe
  is becoming an excuse
this is why a bar's a bar
  bc it gives me every drunk reason
    to blame
     the universe
poor innocent little universe! how small & helpless,
  what powers have you?
I'm a jerk
a terrible friend
a bad kid
kick me to the curb.
  I'm apparently waaaay too date to care
  too date to drive
  too date to be attentionful
someone else.
someone, somewhere else
  tall
  tall
  ugly
open the window
get me a glass of water
open up the compliments
get me those compliments
  you're just so well spoken & eloquent
    I like your face
      I like your smart
         I like your have-a-heart-that-feels
  I like your body.   give it here
  will you marry me? let's just kiss-away each other
  under the waxmoon
  by the river.
I used to love to watch the trees sway from my window
I don't really do that, anymore
  let's clear the room.
  tell me what you're trying for.
  tell me how instinct this is
  tell me how incest this has become.
someone else
someone
  else, tell me more
    blame me
      I'm a guilt
  tell me I'm cold
bc I'm a stonegirl
without all of the arms to hold your bones from shivering
  get impressed & sleep silent pretty
    and shock, then
           shock at my
    jerk

new orleans

the universe is trying to tell me

the universe is telling, urging me

that here, it only gets bad before it gets worse

that these brainjolts are the spark

because, come on now I'm an engine

  so

let's hotbox the cadillac

let's mildly check that sunset from a cornereye

let's put those rugs we found in the upper upper cabin bedroom

  on the 200 yr floors in our new apartment

let's ride the goddam streetcar

admire the great muddy

crack exoskeletons in the dingy dim dreamed-of divebar

curtains of smoke drifting lazily

we'll sit around, sit about

we'll sit all over the place

fantasize about the escaping from city life

eating sandwiches on pontoons

we'll meet fat new bugs

and that rich-weather

the I'm-holding-you-now weather

let's choke on humidity

on coffee by the emptying

let's fishtail around the festival goers

and get wealthy on bourbon

let's get tall

taller than whatever buildings

and we'll crush the catacombs & crypts

slaughter the sarcophagi 

mush the mausolea

turn bones to dirt to under our fingernails to our mouths in our gullets

& reproduce it all through our skin

respirating 

and then we'll watch a jazz band

  and we'll make fun of the saxophone

and we'll hear some blues on the street

  and look wildly about, calling out names

and maybe we'll drown

or blow away

or 

or

or

maybe 

  maybe we'll really like it there

bros

boys sitting around drawing portraits of flowers
boys laying in platonic bed together
with candlelights
boys telling each other that this song reminds them of their exgirlfriends
and then telling the story why
boys weeping when they drive
or when that phosphorescent song plays
boys in sleepingbags that smell like sweaty girls
boys apologizing to one another for being dicks
boys explaining why they're being dicks
boys talking on the phone for hours
boys buying boyznberry pie
boys crying when they pass the bookstore
or a tall road
or a tunnel
boys understanding other crying boys

I made three bucks today

man, I just came back from the world... don't go out there

I saw a girl I don't care about, I dropped one of the books I was carrying

she said HEY how's it going! and I said fine HOW ARE YOU

and then I picked up my book

and she said, that's a lot of books

and I was like, yeah

so I tried to sell some books and I only got $3, for a fucking Murakami. I don't know, I've never read Murakami 

I guess I can't talk shit, it's what the people want

I went to the bank and I got $100 out of my bank account

I saw a model, a tall tan with black on, and shades, and honey hair, and a cellphone

I had to go to the store to get beer

I got the ones with the fox on it

and the watermelons

because tonight I am going to write a six-pack story

& it might just be my ticket out of this two-bit town.

But while I was buying beer & only beer

I noticed my shirt

its big sleeves are cut off, and it's haphazardly bleached

on it reads MORE BEER in pink comic sans

& I'm thinking when I wear it I will always be thirsty