Saturday, August 13, 2011
Day 347
1:00 pm; 10:01 pm
–
weeds like trees
–
let the weeds
grow like trees
cracking through the
knuckles of the concrete
reminding us of the earth
that once breathed underneath
.
.
let the trees
grow like weeds
bulldozing lanes, lights and
sidewalks of every street
begging us to consider the
waves of chaos before we drown
.
.
(let us grow peace
like weeds)
–
–
tkk
–
for love
–
there is a rope fixed to the middle of ceiling of the
office closet
always waiting there to be a reminder
every now and a again, I go in with safety pins and
attach mementos
a playbill, a receipt to Suehiro’s, an old bag from the
fries I was holding during a first kiss
it’s redundant, old hat, a tad bit messy and completely
sentimental
it sits there nonetheless and has become a character
in my house,
this structure, meant to be sanctuary, meditation
chamber, observatory and squad headquarters
the rope talks to me every time I walk in to attach
something new
stay silly, my friend…for this and only this, stay
completely insane
after every break up, there is a spell for which I want
to go in and rip everything off, burn it altogether
but the damn rope whips back and forth, knows how
to keep safe from my lone worst enemy
I stand there, cursing nostalgia and the human capacity
to contain happy memories
I wish to turn myself upside down, let the past come loose,
drip from my forehead and soil the carpet instead
the rope is cruel, laughs, mocks my current state of inner
boil, hands me a glass of water and tells me to sit
and my eyes become puffy, and snot dries up on my sleeve,
and the tears evaporate, eventually
it is to come back here, on another sunnier day, that I leave
it just the way it is, hanging, waiting for Love’s next move
–
–
for money
–
1.
i hate you but
love you most when
you are around
or
2.
Dear M,
You sadistic piece of shit, can you please leave me alone?
You know you know me so well, don’t you? You know you
have me all figured out. YOU KNOW. YOU KNOW!!
I can’t. I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about you. I doodle your
face all over my schedule, like it’s gonna happen, like you’re
gonna make it when you say you will. When, really, you
“drop by” for a minute and then disappear for days, weeks,
months!!
And then you say it’s better this way! That we shouldn’t get
so attached. And in my right mind, I tell myself this makes
the perfect, best sense!
But it’s wrong. You’re wrong. You know it. You’re always
on my mind. I need you. And you know it. Sick.
Bastard.
Sincerely,
YOURS
–
–
tkk
(processing/getting ready to Schmoth)
–
–
