My feet are dry.
Belkin54g is not connecting.
My armpits are itching.
Uncle Tom’s cabin is sitting at my dry feet needing to be read, but I don’t want to read it.
I need to brush my teeth;
but I’m comfortable sitting on the futon in the living room
which is my bed.
It also keeps the muscles of my upper back tight for the rest of the day – like they are now.
I feel heartburn coming on because I ate too much chicken alfredo.
The train won’t shut up.
Belkin54g is still not connecting.
I also wouldn’t mind a joint of some purple urkel.
But that’s not a complaint, it’s more of a request.

you live like
the entire opposite of me
blow herb like it grows indefinitely
drink 40 oz until you can’t see
you aren’t the scholar I imagine I’d be
with
the guy majoring in biology
taking classes are nearly filled to capacity
like my mind with this fantasy
that isn’t reality – is it?

because my guy
is supposed to be involved in the community
in school, working and paying his bills on time
like you
but you – you’re not him
you just
eat
sleep
work
and repeat all over again
sold herb on the side got money and then –
realized
you wanted something different

a career and a girl
but do you really want to be
with a girl like me
because being with a boy
like you
is scary to me
i'm scared of me
and you
my guy is supposed to
have graduated high school
with a 4.0 and will go
to graduate school with that diploma
wrapped in blue and gold

he'll hold me right and treat me right
and write me poetry
even though he's never set foot
in a class like that
like you
but listen - you're different
you just got out of court for a DUI
it seems like your a party type of guy
but that fact that you drink
like UCSB frat boy worries me.

i might fall for you
because we talk so often
when i meet you in the doorway
will you have me at hello
will i have you at hello
the hell do i know
i'm not sure how to end this
because we haven't yet begun

this is how god rocks his children

my body feels weighed down
pleasantly heavy
gravity takes over on my wrists,
my thighs, my ankles, my elbows
all of that is pulled to the ground, and my eyes.

tell me a story
about your brother and you.
a smile creeps to the side of my face
when you describe something
excuse me
i was just having a funny thought.

we burst out laughing
my eyes blissfully closed.
weighed down by angel dust
it can't possibly be owned by the sandman
at least, not this early.

lids closed
chin to chest
wild curly hair fallen around your face.
slowly and slowly
around my head turns with the beat.  
it feels so peaceful.
my hair brushes against
my cheeks
forehead
shoulders
back
and i can feel every strand.

i feel on a higher plane
the puritians
the tribal trances
the 60s hippies
i'm on the same level now.

i see myself trying to leave my body.
i'm too grounded to project.
but i see the black sky dotted
with bright white stars
like im looking into the sky.
but now i'm flying into it.
i have no boundaries
no limits.
meditate.

i feel like i'm being rocked
like a child
a mother rocking her baby.  
i feel like a giant hand cradles me
and rocks me in this circle.
so this is how god rocks his children.
this is how god rocks his children.

I feel like a cat right now.
Lounging around the house without a care.
They like to sit under cars when it’s hot
I like to sit under a roof of a house.
I don’t have a tail I can flicker from side to side –
So I just lay on my back and stare at the ceiling, at the spinning fan.
Maybe I’ll glance over at the titles of the books that line the walls.
I hear birds chirping outside – but I’m too lazy to go out and catch them.
I’m not a cat, I’m just lazy and I’m trying to find a metaphor.
It’s not really working.
So I’m ending this poem.

bend over and check it out
it's ****
and definitely bigger than anticipated
this is going to be real interesting
i can already feel all the pain i'm going to be going through
but it might be all worth it in the end
- if i get what i want.

shimmy on out of those pants your wearing
feel your big brown thighs
wink in the mirror - i'm feeling ****
i dont think they'll be able to handle it

pick 'em up feel em
run your fingers over 'em - your excited.
well, go ahead and lay on the bed
get comfortable
because once it starts - there's no turning back
i promise you its going to get rocky

left leg up in the air
pull it up on you, pull it down on you
right leg to the left - and then suddenly to the right
stand up against the wall and try again
******* - i need stamina for this one!
im breathing in and out and its so hard
oh so hard.
SO ******* HARD.

i don't know if i can take it
if i can make it
this is too much to handle
up, down, thrown against the wall
then picked up and tried again

i'm on the floor now
and those ******* blue jeans are on the other side of the room
i knew i should have gotten a bigger size.

creativity
slips away from me
the more time passes
and the longer i'm connected to
the technological world
pseudo linked to people - just people
disengaging myself
unsure if the trade-off is worth it
am i pulling the plug to my tangible reality
to give more power to an intangible one?
when the crop isn't cultivated properly
the seeds don't correctly grow
but there are a few of those seeds
in the field of my creative minds eye that have adapted
to this waterless ground -
a sparse few that bloom every now and then
and then quickly die the moment they bloom  
as if trying to show me how beautiful it is
its up to me to grow them again.
but why should i?