Apr 21, 2010
Apr 13, 2010
Apr 11, 2010
My brother notices that, at poetry readings, short poems are better than long poems. I notice how much I enjoy my brother. My brother has been to two poetry readings. He likes Iron Maiden a lot. I like them too, but nothing like him. He's better than lots of poets. He says stuff like "I'm gonna freestyle: I like your Form, and you're so Warm, I want to love you, with my poem." He says: "I'm so rad, I'm so bad, don't mess with me, i'll make you sad." I love the motherfucker. I say the word "motherfucker" because I feel hardcore about this.
Apr 10, 2010
A person gets there. Sees people. Sees his friends. Does this. Does that.
Sees people he doesn't know. Says this. Says that. Drinks this and that.
Wishes to see people he doesn't see. Misses seeing. A person has more to say.
Doesn't wear a hat but could have worn a hat.
A person notices items, certain ideas, certain things not noticed.
A person has a brother, a comrade. A person has lunch and dinner and Brownies.
People are often grateful and people often notice how time changes attitudes.
A person narrow-reads the paper, barely sleeps, watches little TV.
A person flies on airplanes, thinks about mentors and mentees and the bookfair.
A person comes home. A person thinks they understand about something.
They feel like they come to grips with a thing. The thing. The thing. A person
also sees how stupid a person is, how much they only care about love but are right.