Friday, December 4, 2009


yes, but i am sad he says. don't know why he says. in the car. in the primary school parking lot.
three ladies walk past us, staring oddly, take their time putting stacks of bibles into the boot of a volvo.
___one time i spent an hour staring at a ceiling fan.
__my stepdad's taken up gardening, there's a cactus out the front with a big white flower that only smiles at the moon. it keeps me company. i know it's out there, listening to the music coming out of my room at 3am, smelling instant noodles.

wanna hang out with me? she says, i know you need to study, but, you know.. she says. i do. but i don't, so i buy her four cupcakes instead in a square white box. she smiles. they're no tulip pies or raspberry nectar, still. __i kiss her 12 times before i can walk away i'm not seeing her for a few days a mouth is a well full of affection, i'm thirsty.

___are we not well then? he asks. in shades i answer.
(a day later my stepdad knocks on my door at 6am, you're crazy he says. i have dilated eyes (later she and i lie in bed, your heart's running away without you again she says to me with her ear on my chest. i nod. the problem is i'm always outta breath.

___an asian girl sits at the busstop with an open umbrella to shield the sun.
______skin like pearl lips.

how do you feel? he asks me. dear god, i don't remember what the last one was, hard to say i say.

when you visit me we're going to hallett cove, where i grew up. there might be some magic there i think. and we'll catchup on all the kissing we've misplaced beneath 4am and drug addictions (before breakfast? she looks at me funny) and all i want god dammit is...

people love criticizing, whatever i say they disapprove of, no Q, only you can save yourself, no one else. i shake my head. rubbish. rubbish. not once, not once on this planet has a man saved himself, that rope you used to climb out someone left there for you.

___one day i'll accept not being superman and not being super and possible not being even a man.
__and this world is nothing but magic and truth magic and school-desks and mundane children's names and cars that don't accelerate smoothly forgive me if i haven't learnt what i'm supposed to do with it.

can you fix my doorknob? she asks, it's loose.
___outside a flower keeps an eye on the night for me. taking it all in. speaking to passing high-beams.
he says it's just there, inexplicable. small. tiny little sadness.

my skin never feels right in summer. never.
___decade's almost up.
i've squandered more time than a mountain. drank tea.
______won and lost at things that weren't even games, doG knows what they were they hurt like brutal ouch, ___so, __why can't i remember a second of being human?
___(you need a hug she says.
___how do you know?
___you just always do. ___it's true

there's a night growing outside my bedroom.
a whole massive bloom of a thing, grows petals, long connected sheets of silk, sprouting blue out of its navel, i've seen almost every sunrise for weeks, you look up and the cactus flower's gotten bored and gone to sleep. the midnight couch-tv-watchers have already patted popcorn kernels and oreo crumbs off their laps and called it quits. teen masturbators have done it twice before falling asleep. cats have come and gone. dreams have formed and dissolved. ocean tides done their dance. strippers have paid their rents and gone home to their daughters.
_____________________________________________i'm still awake.

______________________________________________________just me.

when the noises start up again, i find myself sitting behind a desk.
the neighbor's kids are making a racket in their front yard.

yes, but i am sad he says. don't know why he says.

in shades i guess.

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