&&&, #1

hopkinton state park, MA / 5.09


I’ve been living hedonistically.
But I’ll always love shade plants more than sun plants,
their humble leaves rounded and tougher, duller darker
nothing showy like those dry bright noisy spangled
sun plants.
I prefer shade plants in the same way I will always prefer
The East Coast.
And still,
for someone who loves weird screensavers the way I do,
I make a good try at being useful.
Post-apocalyptic skills list into the double digits.
I don’t even run from bees anymore.
The houseplant has much in common with the shade plant
And is often a shade plant itself,
taken out of the ground with a little bit of dirt
to help us out up here.
Thanks Spider Plant.
My alley cave seems nicer now.
The day was so dark that the morning birds
never stopped calling. They
faded right into the evening birds.
The one that goes,
{Play or Sing: E sustained, B, B sliding to B flat}.

There’s only so much you can do
with what you get,
a broken chair,
a can of crushed pine-apples.

I Propose A Toast -

knees, mine / central park NY 8.09



Here I am finding myself wishing I’d have made something
and not wanting to make something. This happens to you too, right,
When Son House presents the Pony Blues,
When you hear the insects recently born in your alley,
new empowered party crowds arms bared
legs allowed by the new air’s slow
warmth, when radiostation is being created
somewhere close to you and you know
(because you and radio both agree,
you say Yes, exactly, to it)
and who could know about how here feels if they weren’t here now.
Radio and I should talk.
Someone tell them to say their phone number slower between songs,
like they would if they were expecting someone
to actually call.
There are more electronics home than people right now. When did it become like this?
To Do:
Sleep again
Wake again
Close the windows
Ask the city politely to stop pressuring me to participate
Participate
Pick up laundry.
My spicy breath feels seasonally inappropriate now. I must add
to my list,
Eat a cucumber.
And,
Buy a box of Sun, like the one Cara sleeps with, on like the day, plug
for indoor use only.
Set it on a timer to give the real Sun
a good example. Good examples always help
like the answers in the back of an algebra textbook help lazy students.
I ate the apples you left here last month.
They were gritty and old like the city and fermented like you.
Gritty and old like you too come to think of it.
You too had the chance at those new seeds but I ate them and have shitted
them out generously to this city’s soil,
made previously only of dead squirrels motor oil and newspapers,
now made also of cucumbers, this afternoon’s tacos
and the appleseed’s future apple-trees that should rightfully be growing from
your dead posthumous humus-dirt chest
sprouting in the center of your fertile pickled heart.

To Spring---

it is hot and raining outside

annalise under wisterias, manhattan may 2009



it is dry and tired inside
dark approaching academic thesis-disaster always exhausts me more than athletics

easter sunday

molly jo's, brooklyn 4.12.2009.

cornbread, collard greens

tompkins square park, manhattan. 4.17.2009.




i'd forgotten how easy it is to walk when the wind doesn't hurt you. last night the breeze was warm. warm- i went for hours and blocks and miles. i need new city summer sneakers. young soles that aren't scared of these new night walks.

as time passes it's harder to break my time up into swallowable pieces. i can't tell if that will make adulthood faster or slower than the last 7,000 halcyon days. my future years endlessly fall ahead of me like a bad painting with no vanishing point.

it is warm. my legs are brown. i am getting nothing done.