____your heart would have responded
Gaily, when invited, beating obedient
To controlling hands
___The Wasteland, TS Eliot
via bigfun via the pulp girls
the weekend wants to end. it's tired and i've pushed it for every redbull, eternity-spoonfed 2am-star and covert drags of cigarette i can (quick they're coming and i throw it into the fire but i miss completely uncoordinated from being entranced staring into the fire the cigarette just rolls back towards my feet i pick it up and try again by now they see me struggling Martha makes a face you gave him one? - not a whole he responds, just sharing mine he just happened to be holding it when you walked up she shakes her head at me it's a depressant Q, dee-press-ant, is that what you want? fine. i find the gesture soo sweet i'm unable to speak for a few minutes, and retire back into my quiet shadow and listen to the campfire) and now it's time to sleep and i won't let it.
dear q this is Seattle speaking:
let me sleep q.
i am all redbrick and darkgreen trees,
i am everything you love in a city, tattooed and tightpanted and longbearded.
in welcoming you i rained for you. now, dear heaven, please, lay your head and let me sleep.
*___*___*
i am sad i don't know why.
uh-oh.
*___*___*
her email ends:
please kiss the tortured artist within you for me (i might slightly miss him) X
i smile. i miss you too.
*___*___*
notapoem
it can't slow.
the doctor looks over his glasses at me,
keep things fast son. it's better for you.
outside i hear police sirens.
_
Sunday, August 30, 2009
fragments & notapoem
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