February 2012
1 post
wear me out
i want to be tired
knock me down
i want to get up
December 2011
1 post
we catch eyes
across the room
i wonder if you’re wondering
what i’m thinking, too.
i don’t know if
i’ll ever know how
we talk so much but say so little.
i want to ask you
but i’m afraid of the answer.
i want to know you
but i’m afraid you’ll know me.
i want to see you
every day
and just talk to you
and just smile at you
and just see you...
November 2011
2 posts
it whistles across,
almost burning
frigid and unfriendly
unlike the heat of indoors.
crossing streets, waiting for cars,
headlights reflected in the puddles.
images distorted.
faces changed.
slosh, slosh, slosh
don’t look up,
must look down.
slosh, slosh, slosh
the aching grows,
cannot be contained,
desperate to get out,
desperate to be noticed,
desperate to be cured.
slosh,...
slosh, slosh, slosh
running feet through puddled water,
chasing ducks
quack, quack, quack
as the winter slowly encroaches
he pulls his windbreaker tighter,
aching inside,
though he’s not sure why.
slosh, slosh, slosh
deliberating splashing anything water in sight,
dragging feet across the pavement
as the wind blows.
October 2011
2 posts
2 tags
i’ve started to live my life by the “never more than four” philosophy.
this is a concept i came up to stop myself from drinking copious amounts of alcohol — my rule is never more than four drinks.
but it’s extended to other parts of my life.
never more than four to go to an amusement park or a movie.
never more than four times wearing a pair of socks before you...
2 tags
on the benefits of aging
what’s it like to be old?
because i find myself surrounded with new experiences every day, constantly in awe of this “miracle of human consciousness,” as they say, and i can’t wait to meet new people or try new things or go to the latest, greatest, most interesting new place.
but what of the monotony of aging? of following the typical process, of finding a job or a wife...
September 2011
2 posts
3 tags
the allure of the city
I fell in love with Chicago before I arrived. I bemused myself with the anticipation of arriving, seeing the City, my first Big City, I thought. On the bus, that’s how I said to myself. Then I remembered — I live in Kansas City. Oh, but that’s no Chicago, I said. But what about St. Louis? I had been there. Still, that’s no Chicago.
There was just...
I stand at the brunt of the whole of suburbia, and in front of me, lined in identical rows, are perfect little boxes perfect little houses with two windows, and a chimney, and a front lawn, and a little dog that sometimes poops in the house and all i want to do is reach down and grab a house and pluck the little kid inside, and pick her up, and hold her in my hand and look at her and say...