(no subject)
everyday's an excercise
in letting fingers lose
a little static element
acting like an elephant
snagged on a parting moon
everyday's a new excuse
to let a yesterday slide
to steal some jesus thunder
right out from under
some train wreck's remains
and everyone's just on the run
like a marathon
for the orphaned and unloved
fugitives futureless
stealing their wings from above
everyday i get by
with a little help from my flaws
letting me get lost
caught up in the forgotten
so i can find myself again
that was a few days ago. my friend, margaret banana pancakes clementine young asked me to trade 'poetry' with her aa couple of weeks ago. i'm an idiot and agreed. oh well . .. nothing like writing stupid shit when you're drunk. kinda like i am now. i swallowed a bottle of wine i got in some sort of gift swap from the upper crust party that i missed because my body was in disrepair and it was too cold. often these rituals are called 'secret santa' in your run-of-the-mill office places. since the upper crust cooking staff primarily consists of illegal, sexually-overbearing-yet-charming brazilians, the ritual was then renamed 'secret boiola', which translates basically into secret faggot. yeeah, those nutty brazilians. did i ever tell you that my nickname there was regassu, which means 'foreskin' in portugese. also, brazilians have a word for the creases in one's asshole. pregas. ain't that something? what a versatile language. good times. imagine coming to work at your temp job and having your office mates casually and congenially call you foreskin whenever you walk in. it's even better than it sounds. honest.
so in 5 hours i get on a plane for texas. pack, pack, overpacking . . . makes me feel secure. like if that spot of earth i leave behind falls into the sea i will have all my precious junk strung along with me. i am excited though.
so i was a little bummed that i wasn't going to see sarah again before she left for minnesota for over a month. i hadn't hung out with sarah since our snowball fight. funny thing happened today at work. in the middle of my shift a store across downtown called and asked my store for 50 1bs. of beans. my manager, brian, who is someone i respect a great deal for being just a plainly nice fucking guy asked me to carry the load. being well-rested, feeling adventurous and overcaffeinated i agreed. heavy lifting's never been my forte and the whole death stick thing doesn't help so the journey was wrought with frequent panting breaks. nevertheless, i soldiered on like a valiant fucking barista through the snow . . . all the way across the park to the T station. so i cheated, but it was a good thing though. one stop later i got off at government center only to run into sarah, hair in her face, dragging a bag to the airport connection. weird. don't know what to make of that quite yet, but it was nice. we had one of our usual conversations marked by awkward distances, slowly decreasing, sarcasm, random subject changes, and then we hugged and bid farewells and such. she gave me her minnesota address, but i'm not so good about that. she has very nice teeth. i notice people's teeth because mine are terrible. anyways, i like her and i'm glad i got to see her. i don't think she thinks anything special of me and i suspect she might even be annoyed by me, but i'm not so concerned with that. it's a funny way i'm acting here. i feel strangely determined to crash into her life.
yep . . . anyways, got to be scootin. man about town.