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Mon, May. 10th, 2010, 05:08 pm
Tolerance

My first day back in Madison
we drank half a bottle of Jack Daniels.
Backstage, I kissed her for the first time

And thought nothing of it
I don't even remember, I don't even care.

The winter got colder, every day
And I would see my girlfriend in her michelin man jacket
smoking marlboro lights by the thing

I could see our room from the courtyard,
sunflowers silhouetted in the windowsill.

We got in a fight one night
Over a bag of broken razor blades.
Scissors, even, cutting lines across her skin.

Her medicine put her to sleep that night
And after everything

But it all kept me awake
So the next day I skipped my classes
And slept it off alone

We will never apologize to each other
But with enough of it in our systems

We could still hold each other
And say I love you
Before we fell asleep

The fifth time I broke up with her
I meant it, I'd had it

I'd had a half a bottle of cheap rum and I
didn't know what else to do
But the other girl

In the worst states of mind and space
And I didn't know if I could take this

Biology final at 7:45am
But I did, I finished it first
And as I left the room

I was practically laughing

Tue, Oct. 20th, 2009, 09:23 pm
Another Poem For My State of Mind

I should study this
but I'm not
I'm staring at this page
Or looking away, at anything else
I should write an anonymous message on the wall
'Show me your ID'

They stopped selling my cigarettes
(new laws)
I want cats and cherry flavored cigars
badly, impatiently

I went to washington
to see crowds congregate
at important buildings
demanding things like unity,
equality, a certain kind of freedom
I could change their world too
But I should get some sleep

I should major in everything
except for effort. maybe
I could champion the disorganized
thoughts and messy rooms
frantically flinging dirty laundry
falling out of bed late
momentarily stumbling over the broken sidewalk
sober

I should re-experience everything
I should leave this room
I should stop writing poems
I should motherfucking study this

Mon, Jun. 22nd, 2009, 04:07 pm

Thou shalt notCollapse )

Wed, May. 13th, 2009, 09:46 pm
Facetious Doomsayers

La Crosse is trying to be peaceful. I was riding my bike last night and it was so nice. It was just the right temperature and the sky was purple, like purple purple, and when I looked up I could see bat shadows gliding through the sky. (Bats are so cool!) Groups of deer would scatter as I approached, and trees were ornamented with bluebirds and cardinals. When I got to the river I watched the setting sun make a rainbow of the sky. There was a little river mammal coasting through the river, even a bald eagle circling trempealeau mountain....

It's unbelievable. Who even knew there were places in the world that are still like this? But somehow it just... doesn't affect me like New Mexico summers affected me. In New Mexico I would lay outside in the summer and let every thought become the sun beating against my face, the heat radiating up from the ground, the mountains that cut so vividly across the skyline. It was my only solace in the worst times of my life, a sense of peace that was potent and penetrating, that spoke for the only part of me that still knew everything would turn out alright in the end, that it already was.

In Wisconsin, the land has a different personality. The air is thick, dense, complex. It feels so far away. When I first saw the sun set over the Mississippi I thought, I should take a picture. And it would be a nice picture, because everything that made the scenery beautiful to me- the shapes, the light, the colors- could all be rendered in 2D without losing anything terrifically meaningful. I wanted to cry because now everything seems alright, but I'm not sure if it ever really will be.

In other news, I dunno if you read my facebook but I will be in Albuquerque pretty soon and I would definitely like to see some of you guys so...yeah, talk to me.

Wed, Apr. 1st, 2009, 10:39 pm

EmoCollapse )

Sun, Mar. 22nd, 2009, 08:19 pm

I love Chicago. It's amazing.

The drunk man of the day is 'El Rey'. Do I know what that means? He fell into the seat across from me, took his glasses off and set them on the table. I was doing chemistry. He told me that I've seen pain in my past that wasn't shown in my clean-cut facade of the present. He said it in a way that my mother didn't understand. He had this habit of squinting his eyes half way like he was thinking. Every few sentences he would say 'You know what I mean?' (As a general rule, the more you drink, the more you start asking that question.) He doesn't know how he is going to face the day tomorrow, he said, but for now he's ok. He had a cast on his arm, but I never figured out why. He had a percocet that he planned on taking sometime in the near future. He wanted to know what happened to my ears, he was worried about that. He said I had a decision to make soon. He said I was a good kid, but not careful. "Be careful!" he said. He was worried about my religious beliefs. He said I needed to watch the exorcist. He sold CDs and DVDs. He was in a gang. He wore designer clothing, had designer sunglasses, and spent his money generously on drinks for himself and the other creepy drunk man sitting next to me. He had spent 6 years in prison for armed robbery. His shirt was torn to shreds, but still clean. He was going to Minneapolis to see his daughter, who was 17 years old, pregnant, and hated him.

Wed, Feb. 11th, 2009, 08:44 pm
Choking on Snowflakes

Once I saw this girl sitting under a playground bridge after dark. She must have been at least eighteen, but she had a blanket like a little kid. She was beautiful, but had no presence. Her eyes were fear itself. When I first saw them my heart went numb, my stomach fell and my mind failed. She burried her face in her blanketed hands, perhaps to hide the fear with pain, and muttered something but it wasn't clear. I tried to hide my fear with apathy. I asked if she was ok, but the words didn't arrive as planned. It was a stupid question anyways. So I left. The situation was unpredictable. I think she was on meth.

Fri, Jan. 16th, 2009, 06:59 pm

So, I'm pretty sick of having conversations about how cold it is up here. It takes up like 50% of my total conversation-having time. It's in the headlines of our small podunk town newspapers almost everyday. But I thought I should throw this idea out to you guys anyways. It's fucking cold here. It's so cold that we got a day off of school because it was too dangerous to go outside. It's so cold that cars won't start because their batteries are dead and their tires are deflated, and frozen that way. And outside the air is like death- cold and brittle, with razor-sharp whispering breezes and mysterious fog-clouds at your feet.

Thu, Jan. 1st, 2009, 03:41 pm

The plane ride from Denver to Minneapolis was cold and uncomfortable, and even though I was tired I couldn't sleep, so I let my head wander.
The terrorist threat level was orange today.
But that didn't stop me from sneaking in a 4oz bottle of lotion. Ha.
It was 4am and I was the only one that looked together there

Except for the scrapes on my arms and the splinters in my hands.
Earlier that night I could smell the mountains on my clothes, but not anymore.

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