october 30, 2014

my day consists of not wanting
to talk any more about
jian ghomeshi

running through dreamscape and
for once i do the right thing
in my subconscious

there are certain feelings
you don’t outgrow and
i found a few

running through dreamscape and
for once i am also a lamb leaving
your flesh untouched

i was so honest at the restaurant
like i never am and
always want to be

for all the right reasons
in all the right ways

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october 23, 2014

i have a hard time understanding
whether i orbit my surroundings or
my surroundings orbit me

i want to put on
something sparkly and
drink champagne,
study the pictures my
lipstick makes on
the flute

i understand that
celebrating functionality
is tedious but
i’ve been dead
a while

symbiotic relationship with
a china doll plant

i water her,
she reminds me
i am good for something

i think it was my mother
who taught me that
depression was a
character flaw

and so i remain a
wrapped gift with
a lovely bow and
all your worst fears
inside

put me under your
dead tree and
leave me unopened

last christmas i gave up on
being anything better than
what i am,
your wrapped gift
with character flaws
in a symbiotic relationship
with a potted plant

october 20, 2014

the alignment of my car is
putting bad ideas
in my head

want to fit through the
colander but i am
someone’s dinner

very thankful for
the change in gravity
yesterday

street full of garbage,
car full of garbage,
head full of garbage

but there are reasons
to lay down for bed and
still want to dream

there is nothing appealing
about oysters

the world is not
my oyster

what’s done
is only done
because
you did it

october 17, 2014

wrote
‘someone take love
away from me
before i change
the connotation’
on a napkin
once

don’t want to
eat at that table
again

i’m making crafts
out of my temperament

confessions

i am wary of myself
most days

memory is
strongly associated
with location –
street corners
hold sentiment

capitalist bullshit or not,
the energy of holidays
delights me

someone i was dating
once wrote a poem
about fucking someone else
and i still sometimes wonder
whether it happened that way

i am an excellent vandal

i have been visiting the kitchen
for no reason other than to
smile at the sunflowers

it’s hard to allow finality

today my heart feels so full
of insignificant detail