“the only thing that space gives friends is more space”
i don’t know how to feel about liking AJLT a bit too much. it must be because of samantha irby. wherever you are, vincia, i hope you’re doing well.
april is poetry month (29/30)
sometimes, strangers make a lasting impression. chele (pronounced “shelley”) came to me in workshop today in response to the prompt “write about a memorable moment on public transportation” so i’d like to dedicate this to her tonight:
they asked me more
about your easy eyes
i defined in opposition
“not hard”
counter the ones you expect to find on the MTA
your refreshing reality and advice
your speckled mani hanging on for dear life
the spelling of your name and your insistence
that i take down your number and come to your community college graduation
even though i was leaving in two days and lived in canada
the truest kind of gem that can only be found
between queens and DUMBO
i hope you have been celebrated
i know that you’ve kept shining
and am better because i got to bask in your glow
and, i guess i’m in a NY state of mind, as i found myself grinning at the round won playoff highlights. tali and michelle obama’s brother are the reason i get to see OG (that RJ trade really worked out in their favour) and kyle (and nick nurse!) in the playoffs again, and since OJ just died-they may just get their retribution for that time he fucked up their finals in that car chase after the murder…
april is poetry month (28/30)
humid rain and sakura
getting lost at that park again
all the phones and poses out
time was wavy
and i couldn’t get out of my own way
april is poetry month (27/30)
“you can’t hum and think”
hmmmmmmm….
april is poetry month (25 & 26/30)
there’s no sense crying/over forgotten non-spilled/(genius?) ideas
no snoozing through life/get up get out get somethin’/promise it matters
april is poetry month (24/30)
“they grow out of the ground, man”
just relax.
it was the first time that the doors were just open
instead of the usual 2-door authentication system
i took that month off and i’m back now
straight from whole
i’m administering my own doses
glad to start on a day off
golden teacher
please illuminate me
from inside my mind
april is poetry month (23/30)
i could feel my face smiling
on my way to hold my love for a heartbeat
every day is a reminder that we’re still
who we always were
and that we can do things different
in case we forget
i am like that guy from memento
and i will always go to airports and stations
just to intercept
portals and shuttles
to reset
april is poetry month (22/30)
i’m so glad that sister writes is back, even though it’s virtual. here’s a freestyle extrapolation on something that came out of tonight’s inaugural session:
to the country where half my roots started
but none of my branches have grown
i am sure that i sprouted buds and leaves when i was 24
and most recently kicked off my post-flowering years
as my pollen returned for the last time
our nuclear circle of life is turning back
but i was born in the fall
the season of no shrinking violets
and i will also go out with a bang
april is poetry month (21/30)
what’s a challenge but a nudge
what’s a nudge to a non-achiever?
no witness in the mild
april is poetry month (20/30)
i meant to be inspired today at the brickworks clothing swap. i just got cold and almost forgot. here we go:
we must be on the same listserves
i’ve seen you everywhere the whole time i’ve lived here
you have a look that can only be described as “ventriloquist dummy”
and today you remembered that we rode the shuttle bus at the same time on thursday
i wonder if you had any of my things in your suitcase
i didn’t see them as everything had been picked over by the time i got there
but freezing to find 4 things when i brought in 6
these days-that’s how i win a swap
you tried to make conversation then snarled at me when i offered you my two extra tickets
i thought that’s what you were angling for
you didn’t have to be rude
but i guess, neither did i
oh well-see you at the next random thing
unless you die.
RIP sean sax-somehow i’m very, very late to that. thank you for being in my pre-toronto history, and for all the chunes. so much love, homie.
metrotextual 