madness. It is good
to create. Helps
Honey, sometimes things gets so mixed up, you might not get the gist until you done gone through something and wonder where you been.
- Me: How's yer day going?
- Mema: Excellent!
- Me: Really?
- Mema: Well, yes! We make our days what they are! See if you have a bad day...wellllll get through it, you go have a bad day. But i only get good'ns.
Undeterred by recent bombings, London residents visit what’s left of a library during World War II.
when the wind is blowing
green tree leaves
animate a storm coming.
these trees aren’t dead,
lifeless rustling me.
it’s only clouds passing.
Now he grumbles when I scratch his head
I hate showering I try and do what I may to stay away even if it means stagnancy I like many others naturally hunch when sitting at a computer it is that much harder to straighten up which is more robotic less emotional more detached this posture or perfect posture to love a shaking thing MY dog
(I’m claiming possession, he won’t do
for himself) seems lonely
rest of the family is gone
this has never happened before,
that would be my assumption for why
even though I might not be enough
for him and his sadness is all dissatisfaction
with how I interact with him /
the time I make for him etc.
something had him jumpy
other night he would not settle
his hair was perturbed
his little legs would not rest
their quick shaking
I took him outside to test
what was there
I heard something myself
rustling barely beyond
the back fence
sat on the back porch waiting
holding my little little dog
and his shaking
I leaned my mouth up to his ear
and concentrated on the necessary care
I hoped I had within to give my valiant pup
some qualified scratches behind the ears
pats on the head
to be big enough
I won’t let whatever it is harm
to actively love
with a hush
Random Collection of Great Times On my (Father's) Mother's Day
- Since my mother is now in Italy and I've yet to hear from her, no way to contact her, I've spent this day post-work hanging out with Meme, who I think I learned today was accused of leaving her husband for me in my MUCH younger years because she would come over every morning to see me.
- Me: (She's trying to open my car door) Hey! What do you think you're doing? It's Mother's Day, so i figured for a present I'd open the door for you. It takes a lot of effort but I figure you're worth it.
- Meme: I'd say so.
- Me: (helping her out of dad's truck she plops onto the ground without bending her knees) Watch your knees, wouldja?
- Meme: Oh. I was.
- Dad: I'm gonna go take a nap now (per usual).
- Me: Now what am I supposed to do with you? You want me to take you to the dock, dump you in the ocean? Maybe you'll turn into a mermaid.
- Meme: No, no. I don't think today is a good day to turn into a mermaid.
- Meme: I still need to get rid of a lot of clothes.
- Me: I got some friends who like...hmm...older lady clothes. You want me to see if they want any?
- Meme: That's too bad. I don't have any older lady clothes. I still wear young lady clothes.
- Me: So uh, where do you think Heaven is located?
- Meme: Well, up. That's what I always heard.
- Me: Yeah, but I mean, is it above the stars? Is it among the stars, in the stars?
- Meme: You know, I haven't really thought about it. Up there. Up is better than down.
- Me: What do you think is down?
- Meme: A big, mean ol' place I don't want to go to.
- Me: (letting her in dad's truck after lunch) Thaaat was a close one. How do you think that would've felt, for me to slam a door in your like BAM!
- Meme: Not-tooo--gooood
- Dad: Help her in! That'd be real good, for her to fall down. (She's hoisting herself up)
- Meme: Wouldn't be any worse than getting hit with the truck door.
- (for the record she was laughing. Bam!)
- Me: Here, you want some jelly for your cornbread?
- Meme: Yeah.
- (I take the knife and keep stomping the jelly into the cornbread)
- Me: Hold on, hold on, I'm playing with your food! Whatchu think of that?
- Meme: Give me that knife. I'm gonna play with it some more.
I had a nightmare last night
involving a girl I haven’t seen in two years
(I try creating a strong disconnect up there)
where she came back into my life
five or ten years forward from the present
except she was married
and she, her skin was
the lady in the bathtub in The Shining
and her face had all these tiny, black bubbling dots
yet I could tell it was her
and she came onto me
or I am unsure who did what
no, she before me menacingly
I couldn’t resist either way, even though
she was married and very much so
the most frightening human I had seen excelling.
She kept bringing up
my weak weak weakness
to desire her as she crumbled
how disgusting was I
she was saying, to want her still,
I feared I over-loved her
woke up and looked her up,
Realize I have not considered her
in a long enough time
to, for a while there,
be happily indeterminable.
she is still the same
but now she’s in my head again
that silvery haunt
There’s this place in Ireland where every 2 years, the stars line up with this trail on June 10th-June 18th. It’s called the Heaven’s Trail.
I had a picture I took on my company phone. Today I had the day off. I slept until 4:45 in the daytime, was going to show my friends the picture. It’s how I wished to begin my own day. The picture, a puddle of water in front of two speed bumps reflecting the leaves on trees nearby, the puddle shaped as a tree itself- and it has gone lost. It’s important enough to write about.
- Me: Meme, there's got to be something better on than The View
- Meme: I don't think so, not at this hour of the day, nothing much is on
- Me (flipping through channels): Hmm...look, Everybody Loves Raymond
- Meme: I don't.
We settle down on the couch, plastic-covered. There are no objects in view; they have been hidden behind the cabinet doors. His living room is like a furniture showroom, just furniture and nothing else, only a vase full of fake flowers. He is, I realize, one of those people who never takes out the photographs that come with the frames.
My friend, she used to have this painting in her room;
I stared at it laying on her bed, on the phone,
the last time I had my last conversation
with my ex-.