billyfivecrows

the way the bedpost
is made of steam.

the way I shudder
like a rudder and waves.

the way a cloud
feels, is feeling.

the way I wait to,
and forget; shape

is undone, now
the coils

are chosen by their
weight:

electricty. tendril.

something straight,
eaten

by curl. an entire
world

blends in

to itself,
it shows

nothing. (pretend

you've been gone
forever. it feels

like learning
you've never met

leaving. freedom,

to illusion,

is life...)


improv. 12.52-12.55 31-07-'05


***

I think I may have a bit of an hysterical Samson complex. I had my hair trimmed and now I somehow feel weaker. Maybe it's hooked in too deep into my brain, and I'm going through some sort of neuro-shock. Maybe I'm just tired.

I said 'only cut off an inch or so' and I looked at the trimmings, and that's all it was. But damn. It's much, much shorter. Ah well. I've had it shaved, it's been down to my ass, been mohawked, baby-blue flattop. It grows back. Actually, I kinda like it.

Yeah. I'm just tired.

***

Party tonight, earlier. Birthday of two people we know. I was the male of the only two young(ish) heterosexual people in attendance. Everybody else was married or gay. Or gay and married. Or much, much older than me. Good thing I'm waiting. The girl who was there is...okay I guess...I mean, she's beautiful, a jewelry designer, a cool person. But we do not click at all. At all. Folks try to get us together, but conversation is like pulling teeth from a chicken. We look for exits the whole time, and just sorta mumble and have to say 'huh?'...if we bother to respond to each other at all. She's real prickly, like a cactus wrapped in velvet. I guess I am to her, as well. I don't like to be around her, much less date her. I mean, G*d bless her and all, but the whole thing makes my stomach ache in a not so good way.

That's the universe telling me somethin' there, bubba.

Wait.

good rain

good boi

Not a problem.

***

I gotta get up early tomorrow

so

love to ya's

and goodnight

r.