i have tuscon on the brain...not sure why, but it sounds as good a place as any right? clear blue skies, cacti, desert dust under calloused feet, lobster skin...yea, tuscon.


i want to run around in the sun in barefeet, get salty and sweaty, then go inside where dim lights will make everything appear as if im looking at it through a fuzzy black hallway while pupils race to adjust themselves.


ya know?


its not that i really give a rats ass about ohio weather. im done listening to people talk about it. [in a daffy duck voice]: "oooooh golly its so cold out there! when will this snow ever give up yuck yuck yuck!" ummm....hmmmm how can i respond...no shit...its winter.


anywho, tuscon.


this ones fer you, ROO:
Sometimes I feel so happy, Sometimes I feel so sad.
Sometimes I feel so happy, But mostly you just make me mad.
Baby, you just make me mad.
Linger on, your pale blue eyes.


Thought of you as my mountain top, Thought of you as my peak.
Thought of you as everything, I've had but couldn't keep.
I've had but couldn't keep.
Linger on, your pale blue eyes.


If I could make the world as pure and strange as what I see,
I'd put you in the mirror, I put in front of me.
I put in front of me.
Linger on, your pale blue eyes.
Linger on, your pale blue eyes.

(velvet underground)

sestina

its all said and done with the purchase of a one way ticket,
ill say i knew you in the west, when you reach the east,
the only one in the whole town with clumps of knots for hair,
i miss the the sound of your cough, letting out smoke,
the kind hearted mania in your eyes when you smile,
wont look the same in pixels and muffled webcam noise.


in your stick shift coffin with bass vibrations thumping noise,
pollution, i rustled through the stacks of speeding tickets,
and thoughts in my head for something to make you smile,
like you always made me. you told me truths about the middle east,
because you know everything about everything, despite the smoke
and haze that grazed the floors and nestled in your hair.


remember when we spent four nights tangling knots in your hair?
while you kept your eyes glued to pinyin despite the noise,
of anthony bordains talking head babbling. break to smoke
in the winter woods, squatting on wet logs. the presidential ticket
was all a joke to you. "im looking to the east, the far east.
"who else in the world reacts to communism with such a smile.


oh baby, baby its a wild world, its hard to get by just upon a smile.
ill say take care, remember theres a little of my love woven into your hair,
and someday i swear ill dig my toes in the dirt of the east,
and ill eat all the dog meat that you want me too and take in the noise,
of the street vendors. ill pack my things and get my ticket,
but it will be round trip, ill return and again miss the smell of smoke.


i dont know why we talk about cats so much, you exhaled smoke,
into the ears of my kittens. when they became lethargic you smiled.
can you stay a little longer, just for a minute forget your ticket?
i promise to spend the whole time working wax into your hair,
i promise to sing to you all night but i wont make a single noise
when you says it right to be silent because when you are in the east


i wont hear you, carry my heart with you when the west meets east,
you'll need it when you are piled high in skyscrapers with nothing to smoke,
i cant sleep with out your restless legs shaking the bed, or the noise
of your rasta beats still stuck in my head. i hope you smile
when you think of the time i put a butterfly clip in the back of your hair,
you didnt know it was there for so long. tear up the ticket.


take in the noise, when you reach the east,
because you wont rip the ticket, you will give up the smoke,
you will smile when you recall my love in your hair.

could someone please stroke my ego?
ive grown quite tired of doing this myself
the female ego exists though left out of discourse
i was stoned i saw my thoughts as a spirogram

ive grown quite tired of doing this myself
scratch your name off the list
i was stoned i saw my thoughts as a spirogram
i misread the words on the cue cards

scratch your name off the list
then i will call next in line
i misread the words on the cue cards
for a change of pace lets shuffle the deck

then i will call next in line
just relax the queue will shorten
for a change of pace lets shuffle the deck
ill be the boy and you can be the reject

just relax the queue will shorten
the female ego exists though left out of discourse
for a change of pace lets shuffle the deck
could someone please stroke my ego?

something completely unrelated: khalil gibran on joy and sorrow

"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart

and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart,

and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."

write some haikus ya'll!

ok sooo i had to write 10 haikus for poetry class and here's some. but it was pretty fun SO i wanna to hear some more! so write some haikus ya'll!


one two three four five,
she trembles in her plaid dress
black capes with white caps

slippery slimy
there's tadpoles bubbling under
the goey green slime

five in the morning
sipping fizz under a bridge
to cold to function

chocolate wrappers
chick flicks and a tissue box
valentine's day sucks

peas and broiled meat
sunday night television
at my parents' house

splat! puke on asphalt
stomach acid still churning
no more tequila

greased up hardwood floors
it feels like i've never danced
with these two left feet

refridgerator
empty safe for condiments
waiting for the cheque

skin like saran wrap
on brittle bones and organs
feed her some french fries

afraid of the dark
things that go bump in the night
sit up like lightning



these will not be submitted to my teacher:

put the tip in please
i don't have a condom
do it anyways

whats crack-a-lackin?
i'm lookin for some kill to
make my hair stand up.

old hippies make me sad

i just want to know what happened
between then and now
you switched free love and daisy chains
for delicatessens and Birkenstocks
with gnarled flat feet

you were turned on and dropped out
and now you've sold
that young open heart
for elitism, polenta and brioche
and rarely take tokes