johnsonboy

It seemed more interesting than it actually was.
How do you write a poem?
well, you live a little then write down what it was like.
Then what?
It never stops.

I'm saying goodbye to the sweetest gal I've known in years.
Adios!
we had lunch today in the spanish style.

talked a little bit about native plants & why she gives a shit about things, whereas some don't seem to.

she has this way of rolling her eyes that makes her seem so...
I don't know what.
But there she was rolling her eyes and telling me she cared about things. The party they gave her at work.

I'm not the only person mad about her. Everybody loves her. My application was turned down after lengthy interviews. I was a finalist for a while. She's sullen and withdrawn a lot so the job might not be as much fun as sitting in a cafe mooning at the queso plate.
So I tell myself.
Her shirt was open at the neck, just a little. Not cleavage, just neck.
I'm not going to talk about her skin. it's too lovely to describe.

She wanted to know about my lecture for the poetry class. it wasn't a lecture. I yakked at them about poems. Like I know anything. but they took me seriously anyway.

One word at a time, I said. It's always a search for the next word.