the wind's coming out of the north

i'm training my fingers to  type again.

the wind's coming out of the south

i'm trying to find who i am again.

cuz really, i never suicide ideated

i guess that's a sign of complacency

acceptance of  my role in life

which i don't even know the lines

but i'll muddle thru like every muggle. 

maybe age just makes ya weary of everything.

sex, food, music, people, writing it all down

to relive something that was, at best, mediocre.

wishing you could get that satisfied feeling

without having to actually consume anything.

*

i should really get stoned.

i like sunday communions with god.

how inifintiy becomes the next door neighbor.

speaking of which there was an ambulance there

early this morning. i hope it wasn't a suicide.

there's been teen trouble there for a while.

divorces and hatred spewing out the window

while i smoke here on my curtained porch.

teens are sso hateful. and it continues on 

in my own life with my in her thirties daughter.

which i will leave alone for now. i don't 

want to relive the last 20 years again.

*

so i have opinions. i have emotional investments

in way too many things i have no influence on.

influenza. woah. yeah, same root.

a flowing in. i read my old poems and wonder how

i thought they were publishable. so much navel gazing,

i like how nat called them journals. so yeah

journaling, not poetry, sorry jack.

but it really is odd to me how some of the things

i was speaking of have come to fruition. i try to tell

honey that i started the waves that become the thing

but he aint buying it. i mean i'm not so special, even tho

i am you are she is he is we are god

and the wind blows in from the south, it can't make up

its mind today. it's like quarantne, should we do it, what if

we don't, let's do it halfway and see the results. your mask

below your nose, mine above mine.

the neighbors are being loud for a recent suicide so maybe not,

see how a little time changes everything? it's the dimension for it.

otherwise we're all in stasis 3d.

***

the sun is bright 

and you're in bed

i think we're breaking

up instead. 

you have your love

it's clear to see

your love is work

it isn't me.

ii'm handly for what hurts

but not essential like your work

there's pills can do what i can do

they want nothing extra from you,

()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

so who am i? 

a half failed mother

a factory worker

a fully failed poet

a dreamer and i know it.

my dad said i could break

a iron jackass. that's why i'm 

a tech. bteak it down to fix

it back together again. a bit

weaker perhaps, but functional

nonetheless. 90 days or 60 miles

whichever comes first, leave you

in the desert dying for thirst.

a lover looking for it

never trust it, i don't know it,

a partner if you need one

but dependably bleeding on

the cloth that makes us whole

because i really didn't know

it was that time of the month again

i'm both self and un conscious, a djin

of delusion, an effusion 

coming at ya like a asteriod gothca.

never could rap, take a sap phrase

and break it. it all rhymes like pap

but we gonna try to make it

a hit in the oc world, a just a girl

a pretty whirl, tornado in the bed

but gotta fucked up head.

and now i gotta end it cua i'm

interuuppted