the etching of
reflection in a china bowl
full of water,
our love
uncovering tiny silver
stars on the horizon.

there are five
and a half
blankets
piled on the end
of my bed
and if you're wondering
how i can have
half of a blanket

(well
it's a long story
but rest assured
it's not complete.)

in any case
i've tried all
of them
and none of them
are managing
to make me
feel
any better.

tomorrow
i will turn on
the printer and
attempt to salvage
what's left
of the collective
innocence of this
thwarted generation.

doubt i'll get
very far
but i can claim
what most can't
and that
my dear friends is
a little thing called
courage.

(scratch that
i'm still afraid.)

in fact
i could write
a long and
boring list
of all of my
typical
and irrational
fears.

(but i won't bother
because i trust
that you
have enough imagination
to cook up a few
for yourself.)

i'm trying
to tie up
every hanging thread
but i've been
trying for so long
that i might give up.

i remember this one time
a long time ago
when you yelled
you really yelled
over some stupid
frying pan
that i hadn't washed
or something.

no
it was definitely
a frying pan
i remember that
and i will die by the
fact it was a frying pan.

once in awhile
when someone's
mad
i stand there
woodenly
and feel disturbingly
unsafe
and i think about how
i didn't wash
that frying pan
and maybe
if i had washed that
frying pan
when you asked
neither one of us
would have a few
thousand pounds of
suppressed anger inside.

i know
i just know
you're mad
and i know
you know
that i'm mad
whether or not
i'm willing to admit
that i'm really mad
which i'm not.

(but i am
by the way.)

i'm hitting the
breaking away
but i'm hitting it
late
and i'm hitting it
hard.

like an
overly confident
concrete
wall.

back to the printer
and tomorrow
i would
hope

(and i would also
pray
if i happened to be
the praying type)

(but i am not
the praying type)

that you all know
that the very
stubborn
streak in me that
could turn out to be
my most valuable asset
is also the thing
that will
promptly
and rather
unceremoniously
deploy a
bomb.

*(just thought i should
remind you that
in every strength lies
the ***** in the armor.)

i.

light in lazy pools
patches of shadow
like closing doors.

ii.

i float
like a ghost
open the sky
like a love letter.

iii.

a bird hovers,
shudders to
a sky that
unwraps its
dreams like
inky pools.

iv.

greyer than ghosts
that kiss for my
lips,
that trembling
of my heart
just for you.

you may not believe it
but there are people
who go through life with
very little
friction or
distress.
they dress well, eat
well, sleep well.
they are contented with
their family
life.
they have moments of
grief
but all in all
they are undisturbed
and often feel
very good.
and when they die
it is an easy
death, usually in their
sleep.
you may not believe
it
but such people do
exist.
but I am not one of
them.
oh no, I am not one
of them,
I am not even near
to being
one of
them
but they are
there
and I am
here.

Feel less dread when you think about the complex nights you've had,
stupors you've fallen into,
lovers you've kissed.

Those things are okay,
and everybody does them.

Eat your breakfast on the fire escape, and watch the birds.

Read a little every morning, too
and remember that "morning"
means "before twelve pm."

Breathe a little, darling,
and not just into the mouth
of a stranger.

today i was thinking about
loss
and how perfect
silence is in its purest form

and i was thinking about
love
and how beautiful
music is to broken ears

and i was thinking about
how there are
a lot of versions
of myself

like playing cards
that are all the same deck
but every face is a little
different from the other

depending upon
the company
holding it
of course

but i was thinking about
which i liked best and
it's the version of me
when i'm alone

all my faces shuffled and
neatly stacked with
those useless jokers turned
inward against the others.

and then i got to thinking about
love and loss again
and i decided upon what
i would really like

and that is to find the person who
i like the version of myself with
as much as i like the version of myself
when i'm alone

and i would like to fall so deeply in
love with them that all my other
losses look to me like
the faces of playing cards.