Monday, March 19, 2012


____Why do I tell you these things?
You are not even here.

from This Room ___ John Ashbery

we effected the a perfect escape

a kiss at the tramstop,

a lingering conversation riding our bikes home through the wind
and 2am darkness ,

lost in the hotel hallways : is that our room?, no i said,
but kiss me here anyway

___( i was soo beautiful and young
when naked, we swam in each other__)


her hair in the wind is a smeared halo

with that dress she's a tulip

her voice is sunday, always sunday


what beautiful silences we knew

how loud
what's left __of it)


how strange the sound:
my own memoryfantasy
how strange the sound.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

yes , and , but - everything. (that i wanted haven't

tired? __yes. __(maybe.

impatient too.

slow slow, and then everything fastfastfast and then not sure which,
__yes. __that's right: both. ____definitely right.


i forget that i'm just settling in.
that it's all new. __5 weeks. __what's 5 weeks?
nothing. that's what it is.


i miss europe.

all the time.

i keep hoping this is a phase that'll wither away and i'll wake up again and go to work and love what i do and be absorbed in it and be surrounded by friends i thought were strangers who i too frequently end up kissing. that just about sums up (entirely) my idea of a suitable (now)/working life.
war crimes. __coffee.__ surprise!kissing.

i could get over it. (i mean, i could try.

but i feel very strongly about it now: i don't belong here. the end. no shame/harm in it. i just don't. that's fine. totes okay. happens all the time. people in wrong hemispheres. on wrong trains. in a body of the wrong gender. that sort of thing.

i've got a 4 year plan. hopefully 3 year plan. it'll work. but g'damn there's gotta be a quicker way.


i'm sad but only in the mildest way. a hazy kind of ambivalent-sad that i don't really notice. the colour of egg-shell. the feel of kitchen-counters. that sort of don't really notice. just there and so it is and so it is and so it is.

i haven't decided who i am right now. __there's some temptation to go all hermit and just keep to myself. __there's a counter-in(s)-urge to be happy and confident and write people i don't know insane emails going all blah blah blah about nothing thanx for listening ya know what i mean?


on my last night we kissed and rubbed bodies to make fire out the front of her apartment with me contorted and supporting a bike with one hand so it wouldn't fall on us and with the other leaning up against the wall and her head locked in-between all that and soft and smelled of 2am rainbows and cars swooped by occasionally and it had just rained and i was ablaze and sad and sick for all the homes i wish i had had time to get to know better.


i am not committed to these words. i find it hard to invest in emotions these days. i can't allow myself that indulgence. i sort of just do whatever the next minute requires of me . follow the string so to speak . walk the line . because of that i have not said the things i really want to say . i have not said them to you because i have not had the courage to whisper them into my own head . i am either a coward , or a very smart man tonight : survival is a skill.


in 4-odd hours i will wake up. it will be just before dawn. i will eat breakfast alone in the dark. whisper a long prayer to myself and my mind will wander. i'll shower for no reason other than the comfort of warm water , and then i'll shuffle from minute to minute looking up here and there just enough so i don't forget i'm the hero of this story

whatever that means ::


when the blacks of my eyes grow wings

i'll come find you

and we'll dance laughter in each others' ears

and hug sunday afternoons into every humiliation.

when the tips of my eyes mime dreams.