suburban_relapse

I am so mad at my brother in law. I came home last night and he was spun. Of course he waited until Mike was gone bc if he had done it with him here Mike would drop him on the spot. He waited until it was just little old me with a babysitting problem and no other options. It's a safer bet that I'd let it slide. He knows how we feel about that shit, and he was watching my sleeping child at the time! He took off to 24 hr. wal-mart before I couyld ream him. when I see him today I will confront him and kick him out. Who will watch the boy while I'm at work? Who knows. I'll figure something out. I sensed something amiss yesterday, and I was also sad about Mike leaving, so I wrote a little. Here it is:

I spent the day
reading other people's poems.
I tried
to absorb the words
tried to understand
their feelings
tried
to see the world through their eyes;
I learned nothing,
except that the best poets
have either a God complex
or a dramatic sense of worthlessness.
Both are annoying.

On days like this
when I look to them for comfort-
a little humanity in
a cartoon world
they only alienate me further.
I chase them like an unrequited love and
they mock me.
As if I could never feel
anything as real
as they imagine themselves to be.
So I closed "Betting on the Muse" and
stood behind the bar
with arms across my chest
in defense
and a stripper told me that
I read too much
and live too little.
Maybe that's true.

I had another odd interaction with a stripper at work yesterday and put it on paper too:

What?
I'm amazing?
People only say this to me
if they want to fuck me
or fight me.
So which is it?

There's another I'm working on but it's not done yet. I always seem to write poems in 3's. hmmm.....