A taxi turns and I strain to look at who’s inside.
Someone goes around the corner of the building next to mine but I cannot catch their face in time.
A store owner drops something, behind the counter.
N’s writing in a notebook.
A girl named Maria is suffering from a horrible cough, or something more horrible, I can’t tell.
I order the chef’s special. It doesn’t taste very special for some reason.
My intercom buzzer buzzes but I haven’t ordered anything delivered. I am not expecting anyone either.
These are things she also calls shapes.
I get the feeling I am forgetting something.
I had a habit. I made a mistake. I had a heart that remembers.
It tastes faintly of something warm.
The Bedford Cheese Shop has stopped selling my favorite cheese which I never learned the name of, specifically.
I want the exact address.
When thinking about tying shoes, I forget how to tie shoes. I need the shoes on my feet, me looking down. Then the motions manage.
There’s a French chef behind this.
Like first things first.
No matter how many times I muse my mantras, the missing things stay missing and their memory murders me in my sleep.
This thing here smells like a dead dog, wet.
It doesn’t come with a vibrator.
Summary and opinion in the same sentence.
How do you say “yes”?
A glance at the titles on a checklist.
Yes, I know what’s involved here.
A man phoned and said we should meet.
I sometimes wonder what they did with my foreskin.
They took a bath. The towels are all gone. There are soap stains on the curtain, vague but there. There are hairs of various length in and around the drain. Venice is beautiful.
Is this person interesting (or am I boring)?
I don’t like talking about the things we don’t talk about.
The subject comes out of the building. It opens an umbrella. It walks down the street and hails a cab. It closes the umbrella and gets in the cab. It rides away.
There was so much light there I couldn’t begin to tether it all.
He gets up, disappears for two minutes, comes back and pays.
For an entire year, he obeyed.
It was possibly supposed to express.
Typo.
It was probably supposed to express.
All I could take then was running and jumping for a half second. Running and jumping for a ull second. Running and jumping for a half second.
Is a black tie necessary for this function? Bow? And why so long in the face?
These emails are poems, really. But what toast? What accessories? What time in the bed beautifully accepted?
I take great walks around this town, toward nowhere but this town and myself somewhat secluded.
You have noticed, no doubt.
How do I make it actual?
False menacing mouth mean anything you want and ask for praise for the privilege.
You: then & now & in your own head.
Mom, I’m sad I must die. I have doubts, but they reassure me.
They love the writing of intimacy. It makes love mean more.
Action action, action, writing action, waiting for action, waiting.
And then I’ll say “there must be some mistake” and there will be no one to confirm or deny it anywhere, anywhere being the place I need it the most.
And then I’ll kiss you, sweet someone somewhere near.
And I will wait, writing these scribbles knowing that knowing means waiting for a long time to come.
