i hope he kicks the bucket.
his brains all bashed in.




ohdontlookso shocked.




everyone is lying to me
i saw what they've been hiding
last night i burnt my face off
just trying to be beautiful.
i drove around town
recycling good memories and old tin cans
did eight loads of laundry.
went grocery shopping.
we'll eat like kings now
i bought a lot of potatoes
and about twelve cans of tomatoes
i didn't mean for those to rhyme
it's just the truth.
spent the night alone
it was nice to share myself solely with the night again.
i anticipate hot summer nights;
comparable to nothing.
where i'll drive around town
do the matronly things i so rarely get to do.


[there was an older man at the laundromat. he was wearing black converse and brown socks. topped by black pants. thick black frames and a green sweater. he was really adorable. said hello when i came back to put my clean clothes in the dryer. i said goodbye when i left to go home. he was an interesting little man. while my clothes were drying i sat listening to headphones and stared at him. Contemplated asking him to dance.

a few hours later i saw the same man at grounds for thought. i had moments prior told several people about our quiet little interlude. after he had passed, and we had timidly smiled at one another, i excitedly pointed him out to a friend, who said that he was a regular. he always pays for coffee in two dollar bills and sacagawea coins.]+

she could make life
a little easier
breaking blisters
bandaging our bleeding thumbs

oh dear. there there.
you don't want that.
you don't want that yet at all.
i know you. and there would be so empty.
for the whole lot. for everyone.
especially you. just think.
there there. oh dear. my dear.
of all the foolish thoughts.
let's calm your mind. shall we.
let's together sooth and pacify
those silly notions.
coming out of nowhere. i know.
there there i know.
you should try and dream more sweetly.
you don't want that. really.
come now. really.

i don't know how much more i can take.

i know. i know.
there there.



poor mom
and poor dad
poor brothers and
grandmother.
friends i guess.
poor everything i'd
never see. too bad.
poor you and poor me.
silly little notions
they creep so softly
into the foregrounds of
everyday thinking.
poor poor poor.
that is what this is.
and that is why this is this.
and that is intangible. so sad.
what a pity.
somedays we just can't help ourselves.
somedays we just can't help ourselves.
somedays it doesn't matter
and everything is shot to hell.
what did we expect.
too bad.






but what is this really.
i'm too futile. too bleak.
longing to see this so-called larger
spectrum on life. i'd like that.
i long to see it. over every horizon line.
everything seems so misplaced
and out of order. can't reach
a damn thing.
well. what's the use.
when they can call whenever they want.
they can call me whatever they want.
it's true. and i have no say
nor a frame of reference
as to whether or not they
or i am right.
do what you will
all i'll say is
i wish you saw me then.
i wish you had seen me
at the perfect honest moments.
the more i tried to draw you in
the clearer our separation became.
should have kept quiet
and you could have done the same.








such a sorry secret
it seems we've lost our way
and there's absolutely no one
real enough to save us.
assisting in direction.
it's not that we are far too gone
too lost to find the answers
it's a case of non-existence
everyone who helps, brings hope,
is in the atoms of the air.
they speak
and i've been listening for years
but how am i to reply
to something so abstruse
all in accidental witnessings
fleeting instances
i don't know why i wrote this.

i don't know why i wrote this.
hm.
everyone is such a liar.
so i listened to liars today.
on my headphones.
and today bogdan was a saviour.

there are special people who come from out of nowhere. they simply pop into our lives and there they are. at first they don't mean a great deal. there is something about them, that you can't put your finger on. something something. something. what is it. there's a feeling. you like them. you do. on a simplistic, yet endearing level. nothing special. you have interesting exchanges. odd exchanges. something leading up to something. it's peculiar. can't explain it. and then, all of the sudden, this person is secretly and miraculously channeled to someother aspect of your life. a place you never would have expected them to appear. but there they are. and actually they've materialized in a place you would have least expected. a place you never ever ever imagined they would reside in. and there they are. they have entered a very important, extremely special and secretly intimate part of your life. and they have somehow managed to completely fuck it up. they fuck it up so royally that whenever you think about that time, or their face, which should have absolutely no fucking merit in your mind at all, you begin to get nauseas and dizzy and so disconcerted that you begin to cry and regress back to an instance when something so absolutely terrible, so tremendously devastating and emotionally cataclysmic (that is the perfect fucking word) happened that it doesn't even seem like it was a real thing. or that is was you and they and in real time or real emotion or real delirium.

and i will fucking despise that person until the day i die.
you consistent ruiner.
you pompous, pretentious, bombastic, chichi mother fucker.
i hope your life is a miserable let down
and your children are ugly and huge blundering, untalented athletes.
i hope they're all thumbs.
a bunch fucking maladroits.