CHAIR - 3
Why is it assumed that the squares on a window mean you’re
in a cage, even if you are in one – I’m talking to you, birds – when the exact
opposite can be true: if life itself
can’t get in, life itself loses its will to live. Just what is the cage again?
t
There are internal logics and there are interns and logic
but the two usually don’t meet.
I try not to worry but by doing so, that makes me worry
more.
The frogs by the creek sound great while reading outside at
night.
Frogs like to hop, and I hope they make it.
It’s all implicitly permitted.
Something new and unexpected is something new and
unexpected. I’m used to it. It is.
A Republican View of Illness as Marxism: whatever the other has, we have now.
After being off anti-depressants for weeks now, I can get a
boner, and I make use of it, but I also cry at everything, never more so than
when listening to “If Mama Was Married”.
Don’t call me at 3 AM. I’ll either be asleep or writing
this.
I always wonder about the Saras.
“What is it?” she asked. “What is it,” mouth half full of it
still. She continues this through serveral swallows and egging her on by her
father that she’s already tasted it and likes it so swallow.
“It’s eel,” I say and she frowns, but then turns her thumbs
up in proud accomplishment .
“Your mama won’t even try it,” I say not to be more amateur
food snobby than I should.
While I was ordering, I mentioned I would be getting eel –
both girls put on their gross-out faces, full force.
You’ll fake me and I’ll fake you: there’s nothing left but the lingering smoke,
still lingering like a sunset that never sets.
Trying the tour, I douched up amid royal reminiscence.
House is calling me back home and to marry me.
Romance is just disapproval, hidden under the sheets.
When world views span such dissimilar preferences, what’s
left to a relationship but memories?
Sex changes the most innocent of ideas: I like, like, like-you like-you.
Mailboxes with flags, still.
