Wednesday, September 29, 2010


we ate that pizza, that one time, by the lake,
you with your suntan, me and my library-tan.

the traffic jam, on Vermont Ave, you saying it's ok,
apologizing for the city, while we listened
to the same radio station for 5 days play the same
5 songs.
on the 5th you realized.

me across the table shouting what now!?
and you: oh, were you reading?
and me: no, i'm just staring at the book and turning pages sporadically
and you: it's ok i worked it out.

your room, mounds of clothes and books,
where we slept on wednesdays to catchup on
television and life,
and in quiet moments you'd whisper to me
you're young don't forget
and by morning i'd wake again to argue
with you about where all the pancakes had gone.

i missed your award. i blame your dad.
this time around, you will too.
and i'll go alone. and chit chat with him and her,
without a crowd an award's just a piece of paper,

___and poems are just words -
not even sentences, just puddles in some person's head.
some random dude half-a-world away with no name.
words that make no sense because it's just the leftover this's and thats,
fingernails and tulip bulbs and 3am's he's got lying around.

i found a little heart drawn into the dust on my lamp.
in the shower there's still a star of david.
somewhere under these books
there's a scrap of yellow paper that reads smooch.

i've put them in water to see if they grow.

i stood in the kitchen that one time,
midway between the fridge and pantry
what are you doing it's been 10 minutes? you asked.
i couldn't decide to get the cereal first or the milk.
when you get like this you have to ask me for help ok?
i'll help you.

and i nodded as you handed me the cereal.


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