evening primrose

can’t help but imagine the
elderly danish woman
(who hates japan)
muttering
“so it goes” as
i immortalize vonnegut
in san francisco

all that ranting i did earlier
turned out to be truer
than one would hope

this couch and i
are old friends so
i’m not alone

in the bedroom
you’re calling yourself
a fuck up which is why
you can’t stop being one

in the living room
i am pure silk,
evening primrose,
lying to myself

emotional jaw lock

easily deflated

i’m blind to what’s
in my best interest

always trying
though

and i just keep
sipping this beer
while my body tells me
to burn in hell

i can’t explain
how i feel
most days

emotional jaw lock

i have so many limbs
to hurt people with

september 29,2014

light dims
at centre stage

“i don’t know”
you never do –
it’s god damn dinner,
we are not going to war

or maybe we are now

and inside my body
there is another world
and inside that world
there is another body

and you are too high
for anything

i think i cry all the time because
i’m finding out my words
hold little meaning
to you

the issue in plain form

i am alone in the kitchen on
the day we were going to take
to relax after holidays while
the landlord fiddles around
with the hot water tank
so i can shower

if i’d had my way,
the landlord would
have been here
on wednesday
but you said
no

and we were going to go to the
bedroom earlier but there
was an article on your
cell phone in the
bathroom that
took priority

and you weren’t going to go
to last minute band practice
and then you were going to go
to last minute band practice
for an hour and then you went
to last minute band practice
for two hours and are now
going to go buy marijuana
and it is 4pm

you made us french toast this morning
and i know it will become a hostage
when i express all of this,
which is a shame because i
like french toast when
it isn’t loaded

i don’t have the answers
if you were wondering

i do know that this day now belongs
to you and i separately
and not collectively

holiday thoughts

sorry for the lack of writing – have been in san francisco filled with wonder for the past week

1.

entirely determined
not to make people
disposable

2.

creative solutions
to things like
self serving dispositions
and
fear of symbiosis

3.

a bald man
rustling his miniskirt
at the corner as
a woman takes a needle

4.

a resting man with a
small dog in a
basketball jersey
exclaims my beauty

“i heard about you two –
you’re keeping love alive”

we are

5.

a chorus of sea lions
mutiny the pier after
a significant earthquake

it’s hard not to
sing with them

6.

hard not to feel insignificant
under the height of these
god damn ceilings

hard to feel insignificant
in this dress

dance ridiculously because
these are strangers and
this is not home

do not use the word
literally lightly,
make you blush

7.

lanterns in chinatown
leave me awestruck as i
champion another hill

buy some mini cats and owls
to bring spirits and
good luck

my temper is as
red as these ornaments,
my spirit as gold

all these moments of euphoria,
always the new world,
always the new world

september 18, 2014

eloquence returns –
hopefully reason follows

baggage is not a currency

could always be better,
could always be worse

winter in grayscale,
winter is grayscale

september self portrait

trying to outgrow
this infatuation
with dissatisfaction
us writers seem
to cherish

a spread of stars last night
like a much needed meal
in this uneasy
september
current

curry favour with
the underdogs
because of this
immortal positivity,
(which is apparently not a word)
many attempted
assassinations
later

exist within the margins
of apathetic armor and
spirited youth

used to dispensing
parts of my soul like
plucked flowers –
some dying,
some not –
anytime anyone
admires their
beauty or
mortality

learning to keep all
my petals,
tend to them
as best i can,
let the wilting
ones die

a telephone call
has been resonating,
fluctuating

i don’t need to know
about my presence
in other people’s
dreams

i’m sorry i painted you
as a monster when
you did something
inhuman

i’m tired of people
interpreting depression as
a decision

sometimes my reflection is
a ravishing young woman and
sometimes my reflection is
a frightened little girl

enamored by the
aesthetic of autumn,
despite its ghostly clutches

determined not to
lose myself entirely
to anything

september 16, 2014 pt. 2

try all the mind tricks
i learnt in that church basement

but let’s face it –
some days are just vacuums

i am bad at being articulate
because i don’t want to be terrible

my chemicals are unstable

i made all these grand plans
because i don’t want to need anyone

i get reminded of that every so often

cities can be ghost towns