Category: Uncategorized

You Are a Fool
or
For Eric Only

you are a fool to consider me beautiful
-Billy Collins, Nightclub

I stood you up.
Flowers and smiles
entered my mind
when you did.
So I stood you up.

You, aspiring poet,
could not neglect
the Laureate’s talk
(how could you?)
so you went alone.

You went alone,
hoped I would show,
late, or call.
When you checked
email, it was there,
patient, the message:

I felt things change between us (at least on my end)

I stood you up,
despite connection
and potential.
Ache was too close,
still, and I had not
told you, and you
could not know.

I called you,
from Paris, to thank
you for the birthday
letter, and I am glad
you did not answer.

I am glad, the ache
is too close, and I
stood you up.

Poetry

Sawdust hovers in atmosphere
moist rich and heavy
flamed by sliced sun rays

A spirit slides through, stirs
the silt of sawdust and dustbunnies
into vortices swirling, following
to a separate room

Cataracted windows black light
the star’s beams from lemon
to mango to deep pomegranate
that clings to swirling dust
like silt at the bottom
of the ocean.

Poetry

I just finished The Time Traveler’s Wife, but I have to be on my way to work right now. So I will make a post later tonight on it.

I know, these two posts below this are annoying. They’ll rotate off soon enough, I just don’t know how to FTP into blogspot. If anyone knows, drop me a line.
Just trying to index things so they’re easy to find.
(one of my pet peeves is people not understanding the differences between there, their, and they’re)

In Spain

Abandoned Spirit

You are a Fool

Meet, Date, Time, Sex
02 Sept, 2005
Rev. 2
12 Sept, 2005

Japanese Steel

Sonnet II

Conflicted

Various In-Class Writings

Keep On
Revision 2
09 Oct, 2005

Japanese Steel, II

A Word, the Sound

The Drill Instructor

Spring, Fort Bragg

Rifle

The Virginia Evaluation for Intelligence

A Rocky Start, Parts 1-3

Avalanche

Despite what the illustrious Dooce says, eventually I am going to write about my job, and the last one, and the one before that. I just got a great laugh outa her blog.

I received The Time-Traveler’s Wife as one of my presents on Wednesday, and I’ve totally doven into it. Unlike Lightness of Being the naration in this novel is non-existant. The whole story is narrated by the two main characters. I’m very impressed with it so far, and I’ll post more as I get further along.

In the close-leaned alleys
of Zaragoza, outside the hotel
rented for the shower and private
pulp walls, and the breeze across
open skylights of the top floor.
Not for the view, all TV antennae and
medieval church steeples of brown
and black stone. In the alley
the hotel empties on silver-worn
cobblestones, and there, beside
a miniature studio-apartment stove,
is Jeremy in his white sailor’s
liberty uniform versus the dingy
dusty rusted stove. One hand
leans on top as he bends over
in the manner all our generation
knows: the way that bemoans,
I have drank a recoculous amount
of alcohol at the Irish Bar, and here
I stand/lean/crouch/stumble/sway
in a sootened alley on silver
cobblestones smelling the foreign
sewage, wasted.

Of classes finally over. I’m taking a Poetry and a Composition class, so I should be much more prolific during the semester. Also (hopefully) a lot less drunk.