Pre Birthday

Now I’ll just write – about Ford sponsoring
Absolutely everything – about wheat beer
And my birthday in a day and 1 hour – but
No one to spend it w/.

Now I know why prepositions
Don’t come at the end of sentences.
Who wants an abbreviation @ the end?
Although this is good practice for

A date. Leave them wanting
More is always better than pretentious – too much
About which I must find more about which to talk – pure pretension
Exchange shitty presents and wonder whether

Cursing is appropriate in poetry
I believe it is only calmly. Angry
Swearing only detracts from the apocalyptic
Meaning of my words
I’ll prolly finish a beer before anyone

Who matters shows up. It’s always
Easier to drink faster alone
Unless in a drinking game. And they won’t even
Hire me at Bailey’s
Everything is so much more frighteningly

Poetic in the moonlight or by pen
Somehow key strokes capture
Nothing but words
I value a floating lemon and the girl
Beside me on a bar stool
Who doesn’t even know his last name
The Better Pasta Pot has a colander in the lid

And a nonstick surface
Must like most people here
It’s kinda like the Butter Cutter
I remembered
The book “Who Likes Donuts?” today
My mother sent me Tori Amos in a box
And a faux card offering stars. I almost cried

I was mean to her yesterday
And the day before, but a present from her shouldn’t fix it
Especially since I deserve to apologize
At least I’m not writing on a napkin

It’s hard to write about people around you
When they’re right next to you
When you talk and write, everything
Is very truncated, disjointed and stream of consciousness –
Start and stop – wonder what to say next –
If you should escape and how?
Numb your tongue.

December 13, 02