I am a chiropractor, I have a successful practice. I am a neighbor. I am nearby. I am a wordless presence. I am a spineless absence. I am a teenage dirtbag, Baby!
Daily Archives: July 16, 2007
Just wait ’til August. How is everyone today. We’ve gone from Have a nice day to Have a great day and these baristas call you “Miss.”
Line up all my relatives. Kristin in a dream – whose voice is that? High and girlish on the phone mail. Who <u>is</u> that?
Sam said Landfish. Mary Ann spelunking.
I can resurrect the feel of fright – tightness, hollowness in the chest, circulation stops to the extremities. Pounding. Swimming Head.
There is no so in so-so.
There is no song in sing-along.
There is no sun in Monday.
I am a wall. 1600’s in my weekend. So I toil along, mud along, muddle along.
The defaced masterpiece, cropped so lovingly. This is where it was supposed to go (blank arch, bare wall).
What is a redeye? The red eye of the future, Rembrandt blears at you. Someone who knows.
My garden, scene of horrid crimes and dense emergencies. Strangulation, rot, failure to thrive. My sand, my straw.
My disciplined classmates. My oversight. My limited perspective.
july 16, 2007
Emmy’s birthday uncertainty. Overwhelmed this morning. Poetry oozes pus.