worth showing.
show anyway.
(N.B. = When did my thoughts become "drafts"?)
I see you [8]
in the bear's instinctive
catching the salmon's leap.
I would be devoured by you,
spawning waters.
JANU JULY 2009 [7]
I starve for you.
Saturday's dinner
& yesterday's lunch
is a fine reminder
I am nourished.
B135. Will the next member [6]
know the pleasure of rashes?
What questions the birds
rents her own veil.
B134. On the feet [5]
the pink shoes went
to the party,
and yelling, standing, posting,
the story I could hardly believe he was
saying. The literal story of his
father's death and his mother's
insanity. His thirteenth year,
not quite fifty, and recognizing
he would have to relinquish
the responsibility--insisting he would have
to--to the liars who had
come too close.
B133. the words [4]
i have today are not worth the Shewbread
I can't get out of my temple.
Can't text this.
just did.
B132. I know it is not prudent [3]
to write when a nap is causing my body
to vomit.
This afternoon [2]
I bought a Sunny orange drink from 5 smiling children waving
their arms at my car. For .35 cents
I got a green SOLO cup, and the littlest child
asked me if I wanted a round sticker. Mickey Mouse
went on my left hand, .35 cents went out of my right, and the cup
and goodbyes went their respective ways. I advertised the children
four houses down to the foreigners digging a ditch for the owners.
Who knows if they cared.
B131. The pink shoes [1]
will go upstairs, and I
will find my toothbrush, since
I mentioned it before.
There is a birthday party
tonight, at my parents' house, Melody
and James, the outer siblings.
Do I have a gift? No. Not yet,
because all I can think at this second is,
make something of yourself, make something
of yourself--see them?? Yes. So make something
to bring to them. How
idiotic my tip-toeing barefoot upstairs, empty-handed.
Would you take my feet?
If so, I'll wash them for you. Again.
Do you see?