a non o non o dey

"i want someone to feel like bill withers about me"

-lynze 2012

so what was this all about this dull knifed life set to paper. a molecule that writes, a bubble that bleeps on and off with my breath? how many bodies did you go through to find me at last?
i was never away. it's an always never kind of date
when i think of ghosts you are primary among them
ghosts from my childhood seldom haunt me anymore, it's like
what part of the sea didn't you understand, little gnat, little lifted in the wind ette
this expanse carries the scent of jubelie and grits. when the mothers died
when the older sisters died when everything you were supposed to model yourself on quietly faded out of the way how could you stay there? in the rooms men come and go, talking of chris diangelo. but sport was not your art, my tall drink of sand, my surfer of salacious. your family is still forgiving you for the young lover, your friends are happy to not know who you are. can the poetry, girl, you is writer no more.

many times i have talked with you thus. but write i must. give me guidance in my hour of need. give me something to feed on. this nebulous has a moth's insatiable apetite. burrow in the wool, egg laying. when will my babies hatch and eat holes in last year's sweater so i can fill them with poetry? ay/? is this what love does to me?


if you can't write about it it's not a healthy love
but you can write about it and you don't.


today you

grade some papers at the kitchen table
while i mow the yard. cook yourself breakfast.
wash the dishes spotless. laundry, yours. they
seem to have rescinded the offer and you say
this is how your life goes. who am i to disagree?
i have been worked by the machine for many more years
than you served. when you scorn it, it seldom forgives.
you must be exceptional and more ruthless than it.
it is a person. the supreme court has ruled it so.
it is a jealous god and wants your love in labor.
so, the adjunct mill for you. i should do a tarot on it but you
don't like the dark arts confirming your worst fears and i
will read hope into it thereby dashing all of ours.
they do not deserve you but then none of these institutions deserve
the true scientists that somehow survive the sumac thicket
that serves as research today. we will lose all new pathways
following corporate footsteps because the corp wants a body
to sell at market, so it can purchase its kings.

meh, but what has that do with us, small in the incomplete
black and white remodel kitchen, eating nachos and grilled cheese?
your time to change the world was yesterday and you pitched a hissy fit.
there is no cure for bad decisions. i tell you there must be some wicked karma
in your recovery program. the tornadoes spawned from your wingflap
multiply ahead of you , tear you apart at the gate of the garden.
this is something i have seen. why do i tie myself to such storms? surely
the lightning will take me when it can, i don't need to sleep with it.

but karma, i dunno, cause and effect so..your personal space spills into
everyone, cracking its knuckles, bangs shins, topples stacks of papers
piled in your wake. maybe look at that. i think most succesful people
aren't quite so scatterbrained. yeah you were a genius back in the day
but you began too late and fizzled out too early.

but see, all of that, i don't blame you for it. it's like, that's just how it is.
i was supposed to bring poetry back t the american people i should
have been a high school teacher i might have had healing hands but
these futures were squelched early on. can't have too many in the one percent
that would make it 2. competitive. that's where we both fail. we like

the easy win. and life. huh, it's a ten round boxing match
against the butterfly with the bee's sting.


so, i'm gonna go wash and wax my car now the rain's all through.