everybody is punchy
we’re all sliding down a slippery slope into the depths….
and everyone gets cute when they’re smiling and taking a sip from their la croix.
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it’s all about the irony now — can’t take something seriously unless i know it’s not being taken seriously at all
if a singer screams “are you ready to rock ‘n’ roll?” and he’s serious then i can not take it and it is maddening
on the other hand, if he is yelling “are you ready to rock ‘n’ roll?” with ironic intent — that is to somehow call attention to the entire idea of yelling “are you ready to rock ‘n’ roll?” and those who might do such a thing — then i can respond heartily, my own send-up of those who might respond to such a thing.
all dancing is ironic dancing. never serious. my dance is always commentary on those who might dance.
what’s this mean? that nothing is straightforward enough to be real, perhaps. or something else.
bring it on, motherfuckers!
does interest come from opportunity?
or is it the other way around?
can i ever trust my judgement? can i ever trust
anything?
you’re crawlin’ things can only get better your life can shine in front of you it catches up with all of us on certain afternoons
if i was more paranoid, i’d be starting to think that everyone had stopped caring enough about me to be out to get me.
fortunately, i’m still quite certain that everyone is out to get me.
bring it on, motherfuckers.
the headache right now
is a sneaking sniper — one minute
here, and when I think i’ve got it spotted
it shifts to a completely different tree
and shoots a half second of pain
only to disappear again, ready to resume
hostilities at a moment’s notice.
this planet sucks
why are there people out there who are able to spend their time solely dropping tons and tons of spam into my various email boxes? or, for that matter, on my answering machine?
get home last night and there are two messages (one at 9:50, the other at 3:30) — women, not saying where they’re calling from, but saying they have “great news” for me and I should call them back at my earliest convenience. now, honestly, they could be calling to say I’ve won a billion dollars, but more likely, it’s some, “you might win this, you might win this, we’ve got a vacation for you to come look at some time-share property” bullshit.
but in the back of my mind, i just can’t say for sure.
wishing i could live issue free….
Was reading stuff from my other blog which lasted all of a month and a half before it was abandoned…. Struck by how much more clearly and concisely I was able to express myself. As if…2 years ago the words were better and more willing to be put to use…and perhaps I’m just slipping…and perhaps I’ve just gone too long without….
And now I’ll try to emulate my old self. Imagine that!
just wanted to migrate a couple of things i thought were nice…
monday, november 20, 2000
nonasyllabic
i’m thinking too hard about numbers.
and every time it comes to this,
trouble reigns supreme, lording over
me, laughing, singing, dancing, gloating,
like victory is its already.
but still i fight, though not inclined to
do too much, waste too much breath this time,
i’m tight-lipped and short-winded despite
my nature, my wordy roots and blood.
monday, november 27, 2000
octasyllabic
stomach upset and lame, loud love
souped up, disarmed, chances blown off.
i’m lonely like i haven’t been
alone before, like i don’t know
what this loneliness will become.
like my visitors and all my
visitations resolve themselves
into weekends of depression
left alone at last and feeling
like it’s all just time lost to me.
remember winters come and gone
and lived through, and died through, and done.
but some days it’s as if i’ve not
ever made it through these long months
with their shortest days and longing.
but i have and took with me skills
i need to make it through again.
so where are they? why do I forget
the most important things I learn?
really wanting to do something drastic — and most often my mind turns towards getting another tattoo. the problem, of course, is what to get…it’s gotta hit me that right way to say, “hey, this is the one…” anything else would be just getting something for the sake of getting something and that’s the kind of thing that, once life has settled down, will be regretted.
but i really want to get more words. and right now the words i want are either “no, really, just FUCK OFF” across my chest or “you lose, asshole” down my left arm.
you make me
like myself
keeps going through my head too.
a warm body floats freely
and has weight
and isn’t there
my warm body is lonely,
weighs too much
and doesn’t care