Big Gulp.
Spend on conditioner but not so much shampoo
because it clings to your hair and you can
spend on... hm, nevermind.
Gonna be ravenous in the morning,
a new day!
Big Gulp.
By nighttime I don't come full circle and it's tap water
and apples
and I could subsist on apples. I'm convinced I need very little.
Maybe caffeinated beverages
and maybe booze
and maybe coke. Snorted off my high school yearbook. Oops, left that in MD.
Teacher says I'm good rhythmically
but I have no confidence, so rhythm can only take me so far. Hmph.
Sing sing!
Trying to par it down (it all down),
then there's that little tug, little murmur, little embroidery hoop halo.
Every man at work holds the door for every woman but then
that woman who looked like a pregnant JCrew model? No one gave up their morning subway seat.
She was too pretty, I guess. Can't count on shit. Looks. Looks and stuff.
Ordered a new bag, returned it for something larger (hello UPS man).
Then returned that for something even larger (hello again) and now I'm packing it all in.
Upper downer upper downer,
pack it all in. Too many empty notebooks and envelopes and what IS all this?
Peer in here, peer in there... five hours go by. The same song has played about 500 times.
Who did this? As I go crunching through the debris, waders on, speakers blasting.
Oh. I did this.
I clear a space to fondle my stationery. The noise dies down.
Crease this page, lick that stamp. What's today's date? Turn the dial. Stamp stamp.
Polaroid cameras, sewing machines, record players, typewriters, toss in a letterpress and this is about soul-searching.
I swear.
Avalanche
onslaught of
antiques in the mudslide.
Fixing, all the fixins please!
Spring cleaning is overdue.
because it clings to your hair and you can
spend on... hm, nevermind.
Gonna be ravenous in the morning,
a new day!
Big Gulp.
By nighttime I don't come full circle and it's tap water
and apples
and I could subsist on apples. I'm convinced I need very little.
Maybe caffeinated beverages
and maybe booze
and maybe coke. Snorted off my high school yearbook. Oops, left that in MD.
Teacher says I'm good rhythmically
but I have no confidence, so rhythm can only take me so far. Hmph.
Sing sing!
Trying to par it down (it all down),
then there's that little tug, little murmur, little embroidery hoop halo.
Every man at work holds the door for every woman but then
that woman who looked like a pregnant JCrew model? No one gave up their morning subway seat.
She was too pretty, I guess. Can't count on shit. Looks. Looks and stuff.
Ordered a new bag, returned it for something larger (hello UPS man).
Then returned that for something even larger (hello again) and now I'm packing it all in.
Upper downer upper downer,
pack it all in. Too many empty notebooks and envelopes and what IS all this?
Peer in here, peer in there... five hours go by. The same song has played about 500 times.
Who did this? As I go crunching through the debris, waders on, speakers blasting.
Oh. I did this.
I clear a space to fondle my stationery. The noise dies down.
Crease this page, lick that stamp. What's today's date? Turn the dial. Stamp stamp.
Polaroid cameras, sewing machines, record players, typewriters, toss in a letterpress and this is about soul-searching.
I swear.
Avalanche
onslaught of
antiques in the mudslide.
Fixing, all the fixins please!
Spring cleaning is overdue.