weekend notebook

kneaded

i roll your indifference
indifferently
between my thumb
and forefinger.

i'm watching
other things, my focus
elsewhere,
but my attention
holds and moves you,
back, forth
at the back of my mind.

like the distraction
of a kneaded eraser,
familiar, tangible,
when you can't draw
and can't think
of anything to draw,
but are trying to.

this is not to say
that your indifference
is comforting.
just distracting.

and i will hold it
while i try
to think of better
things for my hand
to do.



small stones

jared laughs,
makes fun of me,
sometimes

when i tell him things.
(or because i tell him things.)

you can build a friend
out of small confessions.

you can build walls
with small confessions,
you can build
regret, and bridges.

burn them all
with small confessions.

in the end, life
is small confessions.

pieces of self,

tiny stones.
tiny perfect, flammable
honest stones.



back page

i am writing this
on the back of a page
that has already
been written on.

and this is a new thing,
a start, not a
continuation of what
is on the other side.

(i never do this.)

i hate doing this.
i hate the haunt
of the backward
ghost-letters i can see
behind what i am
now writing.

like this page isn't
good enough because
part of it has been
used.

and i relate to that.
and i hate it.
and i never do this.

but today, just now, i did.



(untitled)

i can be the kind
of person who writes
on both sides of the page.

i can spend a day
with strangers
and survive.

i can give,
and not get
what i gave,
but i can get
an experience.

i can get
used to being used
to you, or
by you

or used to
letting it go.

letting you go.

i can unwind
and blow
away.



sinner

sinner, sinner,
chicken dinner.

in a few weeks,
it will be back to red.
no more blonde
for me.

it doesn't fit,
makes me angry.

it was this hair
that you grabbed,
and i need it
different.

and you, you stopped
talking to me
because i said no
too many times,

or because i said
too many things.

or because you're just
busy, but i am
better at coping
when i can blame myself.

i'm a woman,
i bit the apple
and blamed me
ever since.

and you,
you pulled down
pictures
and then your pants,

and it's a woman
who picks up
the pieces.

a daughter,
a wife,
a mother,
a sister.

i am eve.
i am even.
i am evening
the score,
since you need
settling.

shhh.
here, eat this.

i've had one bite,
and now i'll be
feeding you
forever.

i will meditate
on this,
translate it,
expand my suffering.

an nth degree
for my first degree
felony.

amplification
of suffering is
a son,
i will digest
this bite. he will
eat it vicariously,

sucked from my
very heart
and middle.

swallow my sin,
you'll grow.
experience is
a nutrition.

regret,
a necessity.

the shame
of no shame.

regret that
the bite of sin
is tied to my name,
every time.

and the son,
and you,
and you,
and you,
point and forget,
even while stuck
in a web.

for my name
is tied

to everything.



forced

necessity compels
the page be still
and submit
to the stab, slap
and scrawl
of this pen.

a black prick
of ink
erasing white
virginity as it
draws its desire
into being.

to begin
a picture, or
a poem,
is the most
violent thing.

it is a destruction,
a construction
with the inability
to rebuild.

and it can never
be unbegun;
it can never
be anything but
something

brutally past
the beginning.

whiteout

i'll write out the cracks in my current sky
sitting outside with a giant sharpie,
trying to dot out pinhole stars
like it will ever be accomplished,
like i will magically stop
waking up crying over dreams i
can't remember.

4 am is far more sinister than 3,
because at 3 the potential for more
sleep can still tantalize you.
but 4 am is a famine and leaves you
desperate for more than two hours,
which is all you could get.

every old flame burns my unborn
baby into these charcoal sockets,
so if i wake up dry, i can find
something quick to cry about anyway.

brown curls. brown eyes everywhere.
i see him in you, and you, and you.
it's enough to claw the sight out of days
and take solace in a warm sclera
blood gush from somewhere besides
the empty middle whole of me.

i want to curl my fingers up in
that one's hair and pull his face close,
feel a stubblescratch on my cheek, nose,
the accidental bumps of teeth
the salt of his mouth making
my mouth water, making indiscriminate
soft noises of pleasure and forgotten
loneliness, if even just for a few moments
before the pullaway.

i want closer, i want the cling.
not this leftbehind back of the fridge
leftover monday morning feeling;
a perpetual alarm blare at the base
of the skull like dull tingling and
every little sidetrack distraction
a snooze button five minutes too short.

a quick wit nick of the finger
enough to pull red from the recesses,
and remind me how easy it is
to love every little thing so entirely,
and then smother it with neuroses
and all the wrong answers and
regret and hope and longing
and rejection and obsession.

i get addicted to whole red holes.
the deep color draw of you so
damn disarming, and i need you
to need me to fix something,
so i can feel like you need me
for everything.

to make the brown hair
and brown eyes more solid
and less sad, less of a cryover
on a 4am sleepless mourning.

ray bradbury

"some people turn sad awfully young. no special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. they bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as i say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. i know, for i'm one of them."

drawn

draw you in dark lines
in the dark,
my pen unraveling
the thready knots
of then and now.

you sit on the other side
of the paper.
laugh as i trace
the contour of all
your outside edges,
snare my distraction
in light lines of
conversation, important

to keep my focus
from reaching max
capacity. from becoming
too intent, or intense
for you to cling to,
for you to know how
to handle.

either way, if you
reached now it
would be too late.

the space is refilled
no longer reserved,
and i, i have turned
thought and pen toward
other things.

the after afternoon

so much on my mind today, and no words of my own for it. not yet. but there is music for it. thank god, there is always music.


1.
said i came close as anyone's come
to live underwater for more than a month
said it was night inside my heart, it was
you said it should tear a kid apart, it does.
i had a hole in the middle
where the lightning went through
i told my friends not to worry.
i had a hole in the middle
so much sideshow to do
i told my friends not to worry.
didn't want to be your ghost
didn't want to be anyone's ghost.


2.
well i bit on my lip and i kicked at my toes
no, i don't need your lecture because your lecture won't show
that you told me so i told you so
but i would have managed, i would have been fine
i'd do it myself and i'd just do it my way,
i'm a big man for thinking just so.
in all the reasons to come, well they override my body and,
i point to the sun, 'cause where it's warm
is where the wilderness grows
and it grows and it grows till it all becomes nothing
and nothing is left as you know

3.
that secret that you know
but don't know how to tell
it fucks with your honor
and it teases your head
but you know that it's good girl
'cause it's running you with red
and i said i know it well

4.
took a friend i found
crossed some blood red river
never did find my way home
in time to forgive her.
why must people always fall for what they can't have?
why must people always grab what they'd never grasp?
how did we get so far?
took a raft i found
crossed some blood red river.
never did find my way home
in time for my dinner
why must people always fall for what they never have?
why is it a crime to miss a part of you that's dead?
i lost a friend i found
down in some blood red river.
never did find my way home
in time to forget her.
why must people always want what they can't have?
why must people always take, but forget to ask?
was it only a dream away?

5.
lying under a broken bridge
a heart, a mouth with nothing to give.
you came, you say, you draw
out the evening. out the evening.
thieves steal the mood you're in
you were just out wandering.
the last soul of glass from your past is back.
bury this.
your blood thins at this war within.
by the soft night, while the lights were dim
you lost the long goodbye.
but you tried, but did you try?
bury this.

6.
sleep well tonight
tomorrow we'll fight
sleep while you can
rest while you still can
sleep well tonight
i don't think i can
i'm slumbering to music
my limbs cease to hurt
it was such a night
comforting to me
got carried away
dear john
dear john
dear john

7.
well i'd like to think i'm the mess you'd wear with pride
like some empty dress on the bed you've laid out for tonight
maybe i'll tell you sometime.
time, sometime. and you were right
right
you were right
outside
by the doorstep
in a worn-out suit and tie
i'll wait for you to come down
where you found me
where we'll shine.
outside.

8.
in a dark room we fight
make up for our love
i've been thinking, thinking about you, 'bout us.
am i moving slow? our hearts beat so fast
i've been dreaming, dreaming about you, 'bout us.
my head is a jungle, jungle.
i was speaking soft, i see the pain in your eyes
i've been feeling, feeling for you my love
my head is a jungle, jungle.
my love is wasted, sorry for this i never meant to be
hurting ourselves, hurting ourselves
and i'm complicated, you won't get me out of trouble
understanding myself, understanding myself.
my head is a jungle, jungle.

9.
i took my love, i took it down.
climbed a mountain and i turned around.
and i saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills
till the landslide brought it down.
i've been afraid of changing
'cause i've built my life around you.
but time makes you bolder,
children get older,
i'm getting older too.
oh, take my love, take it down.
climb a mountain and turn around.
and if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills,
well, the landslide will bring it down.

10.
i wanna ask you all that you have felt
you just say you prefer the night.
i am listening to the radio,
driving circles in my car.
they keep playing songs that i don't know
and i keep wondering where you are.
and now i'm feeling sad,
and my eyes bleed the weather, like snow.
and now i'm wondering, could i have loved you better?
i don't know.

11.
oh my god, we are done
so come take my daughter,
and come take my son.
see, we never followed.
i've been through your garden,
and i've been to your grave.
i wonder if my heart will be hungry.
i wonder when my body does decay
i somehow imagined i'd walk this earth
no forever, forever.

12.
sorrow found me when i was young
sorrow waited, sorrow won.
sorrow they put me on the pill.
it's in my honey, it's in my milk.
don't leave my half-burnt heart alone on the water,
cover me in rag and bone sympathy
'cos i don't wanna get over you.
i don't wanna get over you.

13.
you gave me more
and how you adored.
there's so much you say that i'm right.
'cos you're still giving in,
and i'll only say
that i'd keep you for short.
i'm out of time,
or can't disregard
how you've healed these wounds and these scars.
but if i could see straight from this chair:
an empty room and uneven stairs,
and when i retire for my solitude
i know you'd loved me
as i have loved you.

14.
i don't know what i've done
or if i like what i've begun.
but something told me to run
and honey, you know me, it's all or none.
there were sounds in my head,
a little voice was whispering
that i should go, and this should end,
and i found myself listening.
see, i thought love was black and white
that it was wrong or it was right,
but you ain't leaving without a fight
and i think i am just as torn inside.
and i won't be far from where you are,
if ever you should call.
you meant more to me than anyone i ever loved at all,
but you taught me how to trust myself,
and so i say to you, this is what i have to do.
'cos i don't know who i am without you,
all i know is that i should.
and i don't know if i could stand another hand upon you,
all i know is that i should,
'cos she will love you more than i could,
she who dares to stand where i stood.

15.
you're right in the park and you're peeking,
piss pools in your seat.
she's standing inside but you surely repeat
oh god, don't leave me here.
i will freeze till the end.
love is love's reprieve.
winter is come and you're stuck here
oh and so is she
now when the wind blows you cover your teeth,
i told you to shed away and trade in your blues.
love is love's sad news.
that was wisconsin, that was yesterday
now i have nothing that i can keep
'cause every place i go i take another place with me
love is love's mystique.
you're up on the bar and you're shaking
with every grimy word.
who will love
what's love when you're hurt?
you wonder as you see the snow kiss the curb.
love is love's return.
that was wisconsin, that was yesterday.
now i have nothing that i can keep.
'cause every place i go i take another place with me.
love is love's critique.

Mixtape #4

1. Anyone's Ghost by The National

2. Big Man by Boy & Bear

3. Blood Bank by Bon Iver

4. Blood Red River by Beth Orton

5. Bury This by Amy Millan

6. Dear John by Loney, Dear

7. I Go to the Barn Because I Like the by Band of Horses

8. Jungle by Emma Louise

9. Landslide (Fleetwood Mac cover) by Lior

10. Like Snow by Tinpan Orange

11. Lordy May by Boy & Bear

12. Sorrow by The National

13. Uneven Stairs by Leah Flanagan

14. Where I Stood by Missy Higgins

15. Wisconsin by Bon Iver