sapphic

fausse-couche

I could point to the moment
like a pinprick of a scar
just below a battered kneecap,
the kind of battle wound thats too big
to forget,
too small to show off.

Later a nurse would tell me
with stoic sterility
that there was really nothing to miss,
that it was too early even
to call it a boy or a girl.

Still I...
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Got into Advanced Poetry

Which means that I will soon have to write something decent, which I effectively have not done since May. Should be interesting.

Back in the real world, I have about five million deadlines for oh-so-interesting Canadian gold stock reports. I had to record a new outgoing message on my voicemail to basically tell clients to fuck off if it was after...
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Apex

In all these winters I have learned
that a horse knows how to die.

There is no chemical injection
of postmortem glamour,
no garish powder pressed
into cold basins of hollow pores.

Instead there is this,
the languid abandon of wayward legs
dangling over the side of a Ford Ranger.

No quick underfoot crackle,
no memory of autumnal gallops
in the cracked hoof horn,...
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Tuesday = column.

I have no morning classes tomorrow because it's University day and we're supposed to spend the time contemplating the founding of this great institution blah blah blah. So my options are:

a.) Get a jump on work and get 8 solid hours of sleep for the first time since middle school.

b.) Drive to Raleigh and raid the boys' liquor cabinet.

hmmmmm......
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People who can only express elitist bitterness in an underhanded way on the internet rather than, I don't know, actually speaking make me sad for humanity. And that's as far as this mini-rant will go.

I find out this Friday whether or not I made it into the Elite Cirlce of Poets--aka Advanced Poetry Writing--and have mixed feelings about the potential result. The process and...
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This is what happens when you run a pro-porn article in a small town:

A fucktard named Jerry Boggs, who runs a website called womenbelongathomewiththekids.blogspot.com ( ) cites it (not favorably) in some "male-empowerment" bullshit rant of an essay.

Missy emails you a thank-you and makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Various conservative asshats clog your email in-box to call you everything from...
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column.

(at least pretend to read it so that my shameless self-promotion won't go entirely to waste.)

Discordant

Sometimes I forget
to shut the blinds at night
and I can only imagine
what the bridge party hostess
in 26A has seen.

Glimpsed in violent vignettes
this life is probably
an interesting one,
throbbing guitars at 1 a.m.,
sex against the window
half an hour later.

But I dont get to draw my shutters
and shake my head;
I spend more time scrubbing...
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i hate rocks.

Stayed up until 2am studying for a geology midterm, got up at 5am to study some more, got to the 10am exam and found out that it consisted of...14 questions. 14 obscure, impossible questions. Fuuuuuuuck perspective requirements.

This situation can only be remedied by red meat and a nap. And I'm only waking up if there's hard liquor involved.

Ever have one of those relationship moments where you feel like you're on opposite sides of a soundproof glass wall? All the screaming makes my throat sore.

On a brighter note, I'm going to the Death Cab/Stars show in Raleigh on the 27th, with or without my plus one.

Pardon my randomness.