Tuesday fatigue/Fighting off

1.

you suck the life out of me,
paper weight.

i refuse to fly.


2.

Anonymous compost delinquents.
I find this morning tarnished,
this last house on the left.

3.

Concourse,
we the finger paintings. Completely without understanding. Wire framed photographs,
wrapped through little fingers. Our bodies are swelling with imagined lives. Slight movements
reveal the ventriloquist. Intersect between ourselves.

4.

I've mapped out my body within your boundaries.
integration memoirs.

I ran from you. Theft had always left my heart
content. I loved you, as I loved myself. The longest line was always inescapable.

Epilogue.

Jubilation.
withdrawal.
Catharsis.
Introspection.

Well fed memories continue to consume beyond there believed ability. Punctuating ideas offset with random memories of what was, an inescapable love affair. Crowded rooms fill my mind, where have we left the love we so cherished as children.

snack time at the Heraclitean cafe

Approximately
40 inches from my bed
a mini-fridge stocked up
with 40 ounce bottles of beer.

This year I will devour,
more or less, 40 books
and I will write 40 blogs,
more or less.

40 black shirts in my closet,
40 pairs of shoes.

At least 40 things to think about
before I tumble into bed tonight.