the last day
how it moves into the next
garbling chaos into the moment
you came through the door
and woke me because you
were hungry.
it felt good to be desired.
but also a kind of burden of existence
like responsibility towards self -thru- other
that my morning head was not prepared for.
get your own
poem, i gotta take a shit.
**
woke up
made my bed
let them sleep.
&
the day breaks
at 11. cloudy with skies
on the ground. there are supposed to be
fireworks and celebration later
at the not-laws. they have a great place
for parties, big back yard, 5 beds, remodeled baths
complete with screened in pool, basement etcetera
great for the kids, the 6 grands and 2 bonus
whom are oddly left out of the overnights and presents
it's all a big to do but today
it rains. clouds a post nasal drip on the fireworks.
at least there won't be wildfires. lightning, thunder.
we can thank god in its infinite for the silence rain brings.
(***)
the way a random white sedan slides
past the backyard neighbor's front yard
drift of smoke of the cigarette dangling
from your mouth
by the lake when we were children
on ten speeds never changing gears
what did we talk about then? how you were
so gay and in love with me and i was not
gay because of childhood babysitter trauma
so though i love you it can only be platonic
and it was pretty well known you were gay in school
so, by association, must i be cuz besties.
i was unaware of this rep, fucking random guys
because they would. didn't have a boyfriend
didn't seem to help any rep i had or didn't.
no one says anything to me except mom
but she was dying so naturally
i like to leave the past in the past.
(*)
what's going on now?
his daughter's still in jail
her son has hand foot mouth disease
and is currently at his paternal great grandparents
because no school. how nice we don't have
to care for that. i'm such a whiner. poor boy
will be sick the whole vacation. treated like a king
though, w/ cable and everything.
my daughter is pregnant again.
i responded with congrats i guess
i just can't. not very supportive but
at least i didn't recommend abortion
this time
because why bother? she can't kill her baby inside her
they have wait to be born for that. i did ask her
to get sterilized.
so there's that.
my son and his wife are expecting
as well. i got her a sweatshirt that said "mama'
and,for the babe, some spit cloths. i've known
about theirs since the summer so i had time
to get used to it. plus it's not as desperate with them
they're planning ahead and don't need me to pay their rent.
i just gotta finance emergencies cuz no credit.
i have not written in weeks. except for some verbals
v to t on messenger. i dn't consider that writing
because i just talk. the machine translates
what i thought i said.
my honey has depression. i can't help with that
cuz i'm depressed about my own choices.
i don't wanna have to take care of his shit too.
i'm not a good nurse.
there were ducks on our porch this morning.
little wet footprints everywhere, i thought
at first
it was cats and wondered how they got so wet,
figured it out with a quack in the distance.
the weather chime in the corner of my screen
says it's 71 F. the sky is darker and heavier
and the chime tells me there will be
heavy sleet soon. wtf? how do you get sleet
at 71 degrees?
dude, it just changed to 72 F
with on and off sleet.
glitch in the matrix? npc weather?
i dunno, but that's the update
back to you, jane.
4 Comments:
i remember there were times we used to riff on each other - i think that was a better way than boring prosaic human realness - does it have to be so relevant and pertinent? or maybe the world is just getting more oppressively prosaic
i was referring to my way of commenting, very self-referential - some time later i'll find a way to say what impression your posting has been having on me - it's emotionally heavy, hits me in the gut, etc.
hwyyyy
crow, i miss what we had. isn't it amazing tho, in retrospect, that nigh how many fucking years in to this and we are still a fucking live. reaching out nebulous into the space between the digits, still grooving and spinning a riff that sometimes sounds so bass, you think you're at a rave. imean, it boggles the lynze in nelson mind , the way this wave keeps pinging.
nice to hear from you - i was imprecise in those comments, but i think you got my clarification, that i wasn't talking about your posting, just that when i comment, it often lacks some of the craft and wordsmithing that makes me connect to other writers and want to read and collaborate and stuff - it really does feel like social media killed the boards and blogs and a whole scene i really enjoyed and got a lot out of, and can't recreate post 2009 - and it's weird, i don't understand why i can't recreate it, i mean, i probably could, but i lack the will and the energy to feed off of
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