(no subject)
i wrote a poem today and i think i like it.
---
brain freeze for lunch
in the humidity
while my memory of you
slips further away
and i'm having a good hair day
again and again
people keep leaving
their change in my couch
my friends and all their
cents for their scents
tit for tat, imagine that
a collection is building up
on my coffee table
and a small pond
on the table on my porch
that used to be
a home for wild flowers
now a nursery of tadpoles
that don't mind too much
if i stare
---
sitting here at the kitchen table that barely constitutes as a kitchen table with all the shit that's on it, with lee at that house down the street i go to sometimes when the cabin fever sets in. he's watching something on his laptop that sounds horribly boring and i'm here next to him with my laptop making a ninety degree angle with his, crosslegged in my socks reading the livejournal of a girl i used to know, smiling at every other line (the telephone dance, oh my) that hasn't written in something like four years or so. i feel a little creepy stalkerish but what she doesn't know won't hurt her. poetry swimming in my head all day long. so, thanks for that. my brain feels alive again. got a message back from that dude that wrote austin nights just yesterday. it was a nice surprise to wake up to. so many people to meet, so much life to live. my sand flea bites from sitting on the beach on the fourth are fading but they still itch something fierce. mmm, beer. sunsets. farts. la la la.
---
brain freeze for lunch
in the humidity
while my memory of you
slips further away
and i'm having a good hair day
again and again
people keep leaving
their change in my couch
my friends and all their
cents for their scents
tit for tat, imagine that
a collection is building up
on my coffee table
and a small pond
on the table on my porch
that used to be
a home for wild flowers
now a nursery of tadpoles
that don't mind too much
if i stare
---
sitting here at the kitchen table that barely constitutes as a kitchen table with all the shit that's on it, with lee at that house down the street i go to sometimes when the cabin fever sets in. he's watching something on his laptop that sounds horribly boring and i'm here next to him with my laptop making a ninety degree angle with his, crosslegged in my socks reading the livejournal of a girl i used to know, smiling at every other line (the telephone dance, oh my) that hasn't written in something like four years or so. i feel a little creepy stalkerish but what she doesn't know won't hurt her. poetry swimming in my head all day long. so, thanks for that. my brain feels alive again. got a message back from that dude that wrote austin nights just yesterday. it was a nice surprise to wake up to. so many people to meet, so much life to live. my sand flea bites from sitting on the beach on the fourth are fading but they still itch something fierce. mmm, beer. sunsets. farts. la la la.