yea yea
extremely fun home-cooked keroiki (sp?) with friends last saturday as Rachel prepares to leave us for a year. yet again the only man left standing by the end. my friends bring other friends who are as unsure around me as they always are, and then i speak and they blink. a woman actually told me that she'd never heard a man speak like that. i guess she's not around a lot of men. I know she's not around a lot of men. a good friend from way back with many problems of lonliness and pain tries to sleep with me as a balm against the onslaught. i turn my legs away. i don't have to tell her no, as i leave her apartment on a rain-leaked night. dim figures play basketball in the shadows, leaping for something a bit more substantial than joy.
i sang
blister in the sun
and
zoot suit riot
the crowd went wild.
a woman named star had a crush on me, she tried to show me but was too shy. star sang (like a rock star) Smells Like Teen Spirit and a billy idol tune. i thought about maybe moving in that direction, but realized i had no room in my life for if she wanted anything much at all. realized i didn't want to go into describing how i feel or what i want right now. description too long, too forced.
SAFE SAFE SAFE SAFE.
heidi's a complication, but only because i make her so. i don't know how to relate to a girlfriend that is not...a lover that is not....a person so wholely like me that we are more likely to gain spite than we are to grow patience. i would give myself to the idea of her, should either of us at all have the desire to believe. she makes me beautiful food. she hugs me and makes me feel so nice. i love her so dearly but cannot be what she needs me to be.
mom tells me to settle down with a nice stable girl like lauren. says it'll make more sense. less chance of future pain...less confusion in the end. mom also wants me to be a lawyer. i wish moms weren't so damn predictable.
still sometimes i get this fire inside me, to burst out into the world making changes with my fingertips. parts of me still ache to fold over the top of small containers. flood out over precious carpets and stain everything i see a liquid expression of decaying borders. fall madly in love with some emotionally crippled goddess who'd fuck me so good and leave me so empty. run down the hallway of a high school telling all the children that jesus is real and he's in me, then shit on the steps to show them all the color of His divine presense. there's still the matter of the distance between the best of myself and the everyday.
mom is right, of course. the warm sure subtle truth of calming winds and homestead reality's. coffee and the paper in the morning before work. minor squabbles over the size of the gas bill. the side of my body that spells out AKRON like washable marker.
mom is terribly wrong. i'd never write a book in that home. calming winds bring you to where you were sailing, but cannot ensure you'll want to be there once you've arrived. esspresso and a comic book before jacking off. major blowups over the intake of fossil fuels. the side of my body that spells out PORTLAND like a engraved tomb. drive less, eat better, coast no more...keep reaching.
mom was right..oh sure. reach and reach and reach. in the end, you'll just fall over.
mom was wrong...falling can lead to flying.
mom was mom was mom was
mom is mom
and adam is never wrong, unless he is.
extremely fun home-cooked keroiki (sp?) with friends last saturday as Rachel prepares to leave us for a year. yet again the only man left standing by the end. my friends bring other friends who are as unsure around me as they always are, and then i speak and they blink. a woman actually told me that she'd never heard a man speak like that. i guess she's not around a lot of men. I know she's not around a lot of men. a good friend from way back with many problems of lonliness and pain tries to sleep with me as a balm against the onslaught. i turn my legs away. i don't have to tell her no, as i leave her apartment on a rain-leaked night. dim figures play basketball in the shadows, leaping for something a bit more substantial than joy.
i sang
blister in the sun
and
zoot suit riot
the crowd went wild.
a woman named star had a crush on me, she tried to show me but was too shy. star sang (like a rock star) Smells Like Teen Spirit and a billy idol tune. i thought about maybe moving in that direction, but realized i had no room in my life for if she wanted anything much at all. realized i didn't want to go into describing how i feel or what i want right now. description too long, too forced.
SAFE SAFE SAFE SAFE.
heidi's a complication, but only because i make her so. i don't know how to relate to a girlfriend that is not...a lover that is not....a person so wholely like me that we are more likely to gain spite than we are to grow patience. i would give myself to the idea of her, should either of us at all have the desire to believe. she makes me beautiful food. she hugs me and makes me feel so nice. i love her so dearly but cannot be what she needs me to be.
mom tells me to settle down with a nice stable girl like lauren. says it'll make more sense. less chance of future pain...less confusion in the end. mom also wants me to be a lawyer. i wish moms weren't so damn predictable.
still sometimes i get this fire inside me, to burst out into the world making changes with my fingertips. parts of me still ache to fold over the top of small containers. flood out over precious carpets and stain everything i see a liquid expression of decaying borders. fall madly in love with some emotionally crippled goddess who'd fuck me so good and leave me so empty. run down the hallway of a high school telling all the children that jesus is real and he's in me, then shit on the steps to show them all the color of His divine presense. there's still the matter of the distance between the best of myself and the everyday.
mom is right, of course. the warm sure subtle truth of calming winds and homestead reality's. coffee and the paper in the morning before work. minor squabbles over the size of the gas bill. the side of my body that spells out AKRON like washable marker.
mom is terribly wrong. i'd never write a book in that home. calming winds bring you to where you were sailing, but cannot ensure you'll want to be there once you've arrived. esspresso and a comic book before jacking off. major blowups over the intake of fossil fuels. the side of my body that spells out PORTLAND like a engraved tomb. drive less, eat better, coast no more...keep reaching.
mom was right..oh sure. reach and reach and reach. in the end, you'll just fall over.
mom was wrong...falling can lead to flying.
mom was mom was mom was
mom is mom
and adam is never wrong, unless he is.