June 27


dreams, only dreams, seem real sometimes.
midsummer nights nearly here,
maintain continuity for what?
rest, and the effects thereof are not always positive.

but the java is tasty,
poot's back seems on the mend,
and we have no choice anyways\
but to soldier on
soldier on poots.


swiss connections, rare, but not
bare skin in my bed, once rare
transmogrifications of the written word

loverboy is panicking.
keep typing.

but there's not much more to type
and who doesn't like being needed.
can i say that, really?

























June 20


the heat cometh.







June 19
6:54 - the time between early and not early disappears into the ether

cricked neck, poots sits to sweep some words onto the page.

too much sleep, too little sleep, just like goldilocks, it's rarely just enough.

today's figuring, with ringing ears, falls about normalcy and romantic;|
dice fall, game's played, and there's nothing to add after a dinner of beer and a useless day.
in exhaustion, complete and total argumentation with a body,
only something can ensue;

but if we look at the date, we know it's here; we know it's over; we know it's hot.
could little poots run thru a contorted neck, ringing ears and achy frame?
could she finish an implementation plan?
really, it's only about what's it about allie, on a day like today.

and waking up with the mEp helps, no matter how badly one slept.
this, is the worst neck of all, pushing the laptop into the middle of the tables
only helps somewhat.























 




June 13
6:17 AM unusual, yes.

extended chewing, this morning.

elusive mEpwords;
emails from a not so distant life, a beacon of hope, warming the electronic cockles of mine.
aside from the sun and the early city air streaming in windows and glass doors ajar, there is almost
nothing i can write here, without either offending; scaring; or insulting. what is left is for me to wonder
if i am the only person who has more thoughts they cannot say than can. or; is this why so many choose to simply
remain in the middle, stand on higher ground, take the first paddle they are given, and row with the team.
as the women on the CBC said, it's a very lonely place if you do not.


i often write to the cbc. they often do not reply.

wednesday, has nicknames if you row with the team, i choose not to confine any one day. today, this wednesday,
i haven't much been here all week, and i've reappeared now, with a small victory dance, won the battle, tiny,
and again, as many mornings before, am so very conscious of my small frame, not so much my elbows, but all the other bits,
in between, arbonne-soft on this morning, as they wake, muscle by muscle, and they are all awake.




six o'clock isn't that bad afterall.
you just need a teeny victory against yourself.
but i can't tell you what that victory is.
because i can't really tell you, anything, at all.












 









June 11
10:40AM unusual, yes.

weeding out;
the conservative; the short-sighted; the judgmental; the uptight; the uneducated;
and now, the unhappy.








June 10

watching
and
waiting

June 9
7:47 not an airplane.

Guillermo on a friday night; even a half-guillermo knocks you out when you're out of the habit.

poots sits to reflect, today, moreso. alone with a tepid blue cup of joe, as long as things and people are swirling around me,
i never feel alone.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4RYUp7gYHwg


not much else, headache and small breasted,
little poots trolls youtube
ringing ears,
sticky tongue,
physicalness takes over.

June 7
f o  r  m    and   f u n c t i o n
6:37


not june 17, but 7.


10:06PM
yesterday, i didn't know how i would love you today.