mediocre moments in half snow

I watched She-Devil the other night, after showing up late for the BSU game. We were nervous. We began in the cemetery, where we left the limeaid bottle after consuming casually on a headstone. The roar of the crowd could be heard for miles. The muffled jock jams rocked our gourds. Are we ready for this? Bedecked with orange & blue Boise State chairs and an expensive fleece Broncos blanket. I stuffed various accouterments in my tights; my erection was made of tequila. My phone warned me that my inbox was 88% full, would I mind erasing unwanted messages? I erased the mess. Once inside, my pregnancy startled no one. Why was I so nervous? to be kicked out from a football game? I was entranced by the performers. The cheerleaders, with  their fleshtoned nylons and cellulite and off-time moves. The swish swish swish of their hair as they attempted unison. The players, some with small heads, some with thighs like trees. I could see them all naked, and it overwhelmed me. How does one find pants to fit such a thigh? and how does one's penis look when compared to the nearby limbs jutting huge? The bored cheerleaders of the opposing team; if there was room for a cellphone on that warmup suit, they'd be texting their days away. 

She-Devil stars Roseanne Barr and Meryl Streep who plays this amazing romance novelist who surrounds herself in pink. I went to brunch yesterday, sick, and ate a croissant. After excitedly relaying the joys of She-Devil, I received a 100% affirmative reply from the members of the party that Meryl Streep is a great actress. One hundred, mind you! Historically, (we share initials and even names) I have never met anyone (aside from my mother) who is willing to agree that she is a fine actress.

And today, my friends are drowning. Some of them sorrowfully, and some of us, in coughs and dripping orifices. Why is it that my orifices continuously drip no matter what? and which? Some call with favors, showing up at a snowcovered doorstep days later. At least the demands are doable. But some of these persons just aren't intoable. I'd like to take a late snow walk; a companion, chosen by me, would be necessary. I want out of this corner, now, at least out enough to feel the breeze flow between my ears. Under the beaver moon, I must. I know how to dress for warmth.

today is for the mouths conjoined

Today is the difference. Recrudescence. The beginning and the making new. Early yet, wet hair in lavender, leaving lavender sprigs behind the ear as a note. The warmth of a house, the windows shut up unlikely, unlike I, usually, tend to be, or to want.

It is enough, to want. I won't try a thing, and the omittances will remain things of doing, will remain the regular occurrences. The ways in which to do it, to make it. What I am making? a promise at myself, selfsame promise made of months. to read, to drink in the words, to eat & ingest the thoughts about them. And distractions weigh heavy, for to sit elsewhere than this bed on this morning is to say, too much is doing. I want not but to drink & eat & swallow & savor your words and notices, and to share and feed it in conjoined mouths.