February 2, 2012


it’s my birthday this weekend.

it’s my birthday this weekend.

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February 1, 2012


Today I went to see a curmudgeonly neurologist about my post concussion symptoms and he made me touch my nose a bunch of times with my eyes closed. Then he told me that it is not healthy to be sleeping 24 hours a day, but otherwise its healthy. Many more astute people could have come to a similar deduction without a degree from neurology school. He looked a little bit like a mad scientist in a white lab coat and loafers with little fringies dangling off them, and he had a penchant for violently swiveling around in his swivel chair. He reminded me a bit of Spock, if Spock had a much less interesting outfit, job, and life.

The waiting room looked like a space ship. The chairs were all leather and lined up in rows in front of a single TV. I sat in one uncomfortably for a while watching a sobering special on life threatening aneurysms and brain eating bacteria. Brain eating bacterium have just made the top five list of things that I think should be banished from our humble planet earth. Grouped along with reality shows that throw cars off of tall buildings and surprise attacks on African villages.

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opal

a girl with a tiny waist and a tiny vocabulary asks

for your number. it’s a party at juan’s house

bluish, reverberating. he got new speakers 

and the floor reminds you of a ship’s deck.

yellow hair girl, (you’ve privately nicknamed)

plays tetris and tennis

so if you touch her, she’s sure to bounce back. 

she plays her eyelashes

like violins, tossing froth and teeth.

you’d like to be hook lined and sunk

in her but save-me moons

tinkle from across the room—

 the white opal earrings of a new red herring.

luminescent. 

cloud and wandering,

someone brashly starts to sing, then

Ha Ha HAS drop like comets.

opal

swings her head around

for something — the blue neck tie of an old blue lover

or maybe an honest stranger. 

estranged from opal’s sadness

from uncles and oracles —

and parties that split like stills down the middle. 

dripping wet with glut,

you are an astronaut 

searching suddenly for stardust with the hubble telescope.

But Juan brought bottles and beatniks

so you clutch on someone else’s hips

flexing to

forget the interruption. 

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schtuff

i would love to don this ensemble

i would love to don this ensemble

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January 31, 2012


i would like to embark on some kind of big adventure.

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