Year for Sweetness and Dogs

Year For Sweetness and Dogs

Will Tate

an explanation

For the past few months I've been worried that I haven't been writing enough.

I decided I want to find a way to ensure that I practice everyday.

I've recently seen two films that inspired my project.

The first was "In the Bathtub of the World by Caveh Zahedi, in which a filmmaker records one minute of his life everyday for one year.

The second was "The Five Obstructions a film by Jørgen Leth and Lars Von Trier, in which Lars Von Trier challenges Leth to remake his classis short film "The Perfect Human five times according to five different sets of arbitrary rules and limitations.

I've decided I shall write a poem everyday but I will give myself rules to follow so that the exercise will be more focused than simply: "write a poem everyday.

The rules and exceptions:

1. The poems shall be exactly 27 words long.

Why 27 words? Because I am 27 years old and because writing a poem that short is extremely difficult for me. As of my birthday in July I will write poems 28 words long.

2. I will not title the poems; they will only be titled by the day they are written.

This again puts me at a disadvantage because I usually rely on my titles to convey a great deal of the meaning of the poem. (The title will not count as one of the words).

3. There will be no intended running themes and no continuations.

Each poem will be whole unto itself. (No Tuesday "The Existential Housecoat pt 1 and Wednesday "The Existential Housecoat pt 2). It is my hope that themes will emerge on their own; possibly invisible to me.

4. I will only be allowed to edit the poems within the day of their title.

No going back to change something I don't like. Again a huge problem for me because I usually spend months on my poems.

5. Some exceptions:

I may miss a day every so often because I simply forget or because of extraordinary circumstances. I have decided not to flog myself should this happen but just to move on. I will not do any "make-up poems.
Also I MAY alter poems after the day they were written ONLY if I realize later they have too many words or too few words. In that case I will only remove words or add words to bring the poem to the correct word count, I will never both add and remove words.

I shall do this for one year.
Enjoy¦

wt 10/21/04

October

Thu 10/21/04

It's not even my idea,
I found it in Zahedi's bathtub.
The form will be precise,
the feeling will not.

I resolve to move through my life.

Fri 10/22/04

Buster wants us to write songs together.
He likes songs that tell a story

but I like songs that sound like poems-
too clever to tell stories.

Sat 10/23/04

My friends, My loves. Worlds away.

Today I wonder,
if one of them were hurt or killed,
how long would it take the news to reach me?

Sun 10/24/04

Jim is bringing mom home.

All morning I cleaned.
All afternoon I slept curled in a sunbeam.

This evening I'll greet my mom- celebrating with the dogs.

Mon 10/25/04

The young man at the one hour photo counter
became frustrated with me when I asked for
assistance. I didn't realize he was occupied
with someone else.

Tue 10/26/04

I'm someone I don't recognize. All this weight. This routine. This office work.

I've been eating garbage so long I don't have a taste for anything else.

Wed 10/27/04

Reading Michelle's blog
I miss her of course, also I miss what she is doing

the action of travel, empty horizon

my love
who sails the oceans

Thu 10/28/04

Bug, Bark, and Snap,
babies bathing,

knowing snap will release unannounced turd depth charges,
we keep watch.

Our eyes are still open for new and secret shit.

Fri 10/29/04

Americans accept!

It's human nature and a parent's
right to reduce any morsel
of truth to a
filthy extreme.
I heard a child say:

"Kerry kills babies."

Sat 10/30/04

The infants from over the mountain have
agreed to chauffeur me tonight whilst
I smoke, self-medicate, and be fabulous.

Certainly, they can only benefit from the association.

Sun 10/31/04

Jim's fish is missing, swimming one moment, then gone,
we searched the floor, stepping lightly.

We haven't found him. Now each dog's breath is sniffed in turn.

November

Mon 11/01/04

Paul and his boyfriend broke up,
surprising, sad news.

A scaly thing sunning it's belly,
I long to cover, hold my loves, soak,

when hurt spills over.

Tue 11/02/04

Carlos invited me down this weekend.
I've been waiting for this.
It might be awkward, I don't care,
I've felt awkward for weeks,
I miss my friend.

Wed 11/03/04

We've lost and I'm sick at home.
To the doctor then to work, briefly.
It's pouring today.
I was out for thirty seconds and I was soaked.

Thu 11/04/04

Frontier babies, plantation affairs, I held the wall of
the barn, hay smell and weathered wood, every time
I think it's over, it's not. Sudafed is magic.

Fri 11/05/04

The first hint of winter today,
that dry chill,
began stirring the "King of the Sweetness" in me.

Maybe this will be his season.
Maybe his year.

Sat 11/06/04

My head hurts.

I woke at 4:00am and was finished sleeping.
I found a poem from Chipman in my inbox.

A dormant Love is calling out: "enough".

Sun 11/07/04

An unlovable monster.
Angry and unpredictable.
Unfamiliar with the

art of estimation.
But desperately cute,
a sleeping angel.

This new puppy is a goddamn fucking biting machine.

Mon 11/08/04

I'm going to fill my skin with script, keep those

snatches of verse close, that have made me up.

I don't want to have to explain it.

Tue 11/09/04

My indifference is infectious.

Now Carlos knows
about dogs:

there are sweet dogs
and
there are mean dogs
but
they're all dogs

with a new gay plague.

Wed 11/10/04

Lorri-Anna called today
while I was home
for lunch. She sounded
like she was crying. I
didn't ask why, as
the puppy was up to
no good.

Thu 11/11/04

Savoring the past-

my most treasured vice.

In November, when the
weather turns, how
I readily unshelve
those jars of honey,

sipping the sweetness
of warmer months.

Fri 11/12/04

I understand, Shellie, why you have
to run home. And I'm sorry. But for
your own sake don't stop there, keep
moving. Move on. Don't forget yourself.

Sat 11/13/04

The only thing more tragic than the amazing girth
of my inertia, is it's undeniable vulgarity.

What's more common, than being unextraordinary, than
going nowhere, doing nothing?

Sun 11/14/04

I'm terrified of riding animals. I'm not afraid to
ride them, it's the subjugation that chills me. I'll
touch a horse's nose, but only through a fence.

Mon 11/15/04

There's no way

I'm going to sit for an
hour over dinner
with
strangers' wives
without
a beer.

Since it's a dry
county, I'm

just not going.

Tue 11/16/04

Have mercy, I need an Anthem.

And some cash.

But I've got my puppy,
my silk purse bursting with bacon,
and my "Go Team Hubris!" foam finger.

Wed 11/17/04

The weather today is so
mild, not only mild-

completely without
feature. It would be

impossible to tell
the month, without

a calendar, impossible
to read pressures.

Thu 11/18/04

I always describe myself
as "indifferent",

but I'm beginning to wonder
if that is accurate.

Carlos says indifference
is a defense mechanism.

But I'm certain
I'm undefended.

Fri 11/19/04

Safe here, looking back, I recognize
that I've excelled at escape
artistry. It's not a gift I pursued,

but I've certainly made dogged daily use of it.

Sat 11/20/04

Is it the nature of addiction to eventually consume?
Or does it want the host to live, to be a provider?

In my bed all day, running.

Sun 11/21/04

It seems the more dormant my sex drive becomes,
the larger my capacity for instant love grows.

I was devoured by it last night,

it was absurd.

Mon 11/22/04

I smell a smiting.
There is a plague of ladybugs on my house.

Everywhere moving, dying, in my cup, my
mouth, I find their foulness, their rattle.

Tue 11/23/04

Narita Shellie,

I guess we've officially quit the bridal bed
and it's absurdist circus.

Paradise goodbye, hello
Paradise.

Never worried,
we are nourished

by our inside jokes.

Wed 11/24/04

Scarlet animal laughing,
coating my ribs,
Evelyn, called me.

Thunderclap in my
tedium. And my
puppy returned. Enough

gold falls, and
one easily forgets
that it's raining.

Thu 11/25/04

I can't help but feel that I'm on to something here.
I can't say what. And
I can't say Thank You.
I'll simply carry on, without objection.

Fri 11/26/04

I feel I must leave myself some kind of signposts here,
breadcrumbs marking my unfaithful scripture,

But there are worse things, there are more malicious fictions.

Sat 11/27/04

Assume terror and passion
are the same smoke, happening
often, everywhere.

For example,
I

fear
the void above all else,
yet my greatest
love
is an ending.

Sun 11/28/04

Reading about new movements, what's no
longer cool, in poetry. It seems so

silly. I never wanted it, but I always
assumed I'd be famous by now.

Mon 11/29/04

Doing the work of god everyday now,

I can say that because it would be
very difficult to quantify the difference
between stringing words or atoms

together.

Tue 11/30/04

Important differences between parts of speech:

It is not surprising that I would lose my job,
considering my employer,
but when that happened,
it was a surprise.

December

Wed 12/01/04

I keep slipping,
again, again, and

again. I'm finding
it's not the success,

the hold, but the
slipping I love, and

the fall, and the
Sweet Impact.

Thu 12/02/04

I don't want
to wear a
tie again, or
take out my
eyelets. I don't
want to worry.
And it's worth
the money to
me. I remembered.

Fri 12/03/04

Fuzzy earlobes.
One eye that winks
when you smile.

Very little approaches this.

Acne scars.
Stubbled neck.
Forearms and fingernails.

There is no beauty like the immediate.

Sat 12/04/04

Every color is
found in nature,
just look for
them, and everything
you look for
you will find.

Carlos said your
fears will find
you, like moths.

Sun 12/05/04

What a circus tonight!
Of course

there were bears,
dancing hippos,
snakes, chattering fowl,

and a single
boxing kangaroo,

that knocked the fascination
out of my ribs.

Mon 12/06/04

When they set the hounds upon you, as they approach,
lie down, feign indifference, and they will pass,
following their noses after anything that will give chase.

Tue 12/07/04

Can you remember
the similarities between, the summer
joy of firecrackers, and eating
mouthfuls
of blackberries, sweetness popping
again
and again against
the roof of your mouth?

Wed 12/08/04

Prostrate to my bills,
surrounded by ex-cons, the down-sized, and unemployables,
the state requires me to listen to an employment counselor.

On staying positive:

"Pray"

she says.

Thu 12/09/04

Folk music, near as
I can tell, this

script, my life, my
father's life. What

are we making, leaving?

Etching in the void
what blood cannot steal.

Fri 12/10/04

There are so many different
kinds of affection, so
many kinds
of ambiguity.

Evie

you are my only

monster. Shines. Blurs. Fire

on breasts, on
pale nudity.

Sat 12/11/04

This year December
has arrived
one week late:

low lying, unbroken
cloud cover, makes
a twenty-four hour
evening, in Georgia,

that lasts three
gray months, at least.

Sun 12/12/04

How refreshing to find one has limits
just when it seemed they had been lost.

Somewhere on 151
there is a yard painted
in my ignorant vomit.

Mon 12/13/04

I'm not sure one can stop being
a whore once one has started,

Isn't it
like alcoholism:

You were not. Now you are,

and ever will be.

Tue 12/14/04

With no elegance, these
people, unable to use
their own language properly,

seem remote.

Like Wally, they
growl, cry, or bark
happily, ignoring both

meaning and context.

Wed 12/15/04

Finding Vanita, finally,

fingering the site of an old injury.
I've read your journal several times since,

and found a
last word unnecessary,

in this,
or anything.

Thu 12/16/04

Past dark
and my puppy is gone again.
Below freezing now, and it's not even that late.

The days are almost as short as they will be.

Fri 12/17/04

Love is unnecessary, if you're
convincing. I only require a hitch.

We can't control the weather, it's cold
I agree, but you'll only make yourself miserable

trying.

Sat 12/18/04

Smiling now, to
see years change it:

"She was crazy" to
"We were crazy" to
"We were young" to
"Jesus, who knows what happened

or what happens?"

Sun 12/19/04

Strange in Georgia
to see snow at all, I
heard someone say
this will be our
coldest winter ever.

How could anyone possibly know
something like that?

Mon 12/20/04

How narrowly we can avert
the inevitable, and hold
it back just a bit longer,
when you say all the wrong
things, and I just keep quiet.

Tue 12/21/04

I tried to think
of the most amazing
thing I had ever heard,

and I came up
with nothing, only
a dull pain.

"How odd"
I thought.

Wed 12/22/04

Yet there are thousands of ways
to be small, to be cruel,

there are thousands of ways to
love. There is one way to do

anything perfectly.

Thu 12/23/04

My Carlos, these
conversations
via telephone are
poor compensation.

I wish you
wouldn't worry.

People don't
change, they
only change

their minds. I'll
never change.

Be sure.

Fri 12/24/04

"I'm in the city, I should
go to a fancy restaurant, but
I just go home. I'll bring
some falafel, because she
doesn't know what that is."

Sat 12/25/04

Drinking until one this morning.
Eating chocolate, nuts, all day.
Beer and soft drinks.

When dinner came, no one
considered it a gift. We
sighed. We smoked.

Sun 12/26/04

We spent a couple sunny hours
today, racing down a snow
covered hill in inner-tubes.

Very small children were very
happy, which makes any scene
worth remembering.

Mon 12/27/04

Megan in love.
Eyes foretell a sweeping generosity,
as if she could give the love away,
like a dam opening,
assured of more floods all the time.

Tue 12/28/04

Time for garden life
with girls again

rug pulled
pot kettle

drugged and dreaming
in the winter

streets. God, it's cold, but
it'll be dark for hours.

Wed 12/29/04

I thought I saw today
from the bus window
the small statue of
Gandhi, where I had
my first British lunch.

Seven years is lucky,
I thought.

Thu 12/30/04

Together with Becky and Evie again.

And Evie has just told us the unfinished bridge was finished,
she had proof, it was in the newspaper.

Omedeto Gosaimas.

Fri 12/31/04

Our jokes are so incestuous now,
I can't keep up with them. Jokes
inside of jokes inside of jokes.

I don't even know what's funny
anymore.

January

Sat 01/01/05

Quite comfortable

because there's no
need for a ceremony
this year. Nothing
is final, nothing
is being born.

Quite comfortable

in the din with
many old friends.

Sun 01/02/05

As amazing as that
ignored by the masses,

is that emerging from
the horizon as unignorable.

Sudden terror, many deaths.

These are silent days
in the world.

Mon 01/03/05

After a day of teaching me a new driving
syllabary, Evie deserves a night in her
own bed.

While I sleep off an illness
at Templewood again.

Tue 01/04/05

Sian says her
infant son must
dream of towering
breast hills and
seas of milk from
which still more massive
breasts emerge and
spurt great
white fountains.

Wed 01/05/05

Liverpool rain, thinking of last
night's dinner, some might accuse
me of wasting a poem, devoting it
to a meal. They haven't tasted
Tina's grocery roast chicken.

Thu 01/06/05

still rains, all
the way from Liverpool,
through Cumbria, across
Edinburgh and back,

incredible wind, chronic
rain. But no wrong turns.

we press North like
Sled-dogs; Bloodhounds.

Fri 01/07/05

Resolved to have more fun, but unsure of how to proceed.

Despite our best efforts, no monster sightings today.

The water is cold, nothing lives in there.

Sat 01/08/05

Radio warning:
"Stay off the roads."

But in the end there
was little to get upset about;

snow, wind, a couple
overturned lorries,

Carlysle,
river swallowed entirely.

Sun 01/09/05

Chocolate, whiskey,
Sainsbury's

root vegetable crisps,
curry, vampire movies.

Back in London checking
emails for luck.

My gut before me. My
charm behind, returning
again and again.

Mon 01/10/05

Evie says: "You're in love."
She thinks that, because
I talk about you.

I'm not sure,
that's why I talk.

I might be "in love,"
certainly uncomfortable.

Tue 01/11/05

Days come on quickly,
so suddenly, then it's
been years, since I've
touched any of you.

Had I the choice, I'd
never choose to live
this way.

Wed 01/12/05

Screaming to a halt, back in my nest of a bed
like nothing ever happened. My most sincere wish
is that nothing ever will. Doom is tidal.

Thu 01/13/05

There will never be a moment's rest, I
suppose. As each love we have is
thrown away through foolishness,

or is taken from us, suddenly, or
slowly.

Fri 01/14/05

How I do it:
I'm sweet to strangers and cruel to friends.
I always make the wrong decision and always "choose the odd."
I can teach you.

Sat 01/15/05

Sweet freedom,
Sweet choices,
All these puppies on my lawn,
I can't keep up.

Fatter I get, happier they wag.

Never thought it would work this way.

Sun 01/16/05

Double Dealer.

Must we employ so delicate a device?

Tiny houses over genitals: made of feathers and cobwebs: chastity teasers: blown apart: as if by design.

Shaker.

Mon 01/17/05

This morning Wally's eye was no better,
with it swollen and seeping,
he sought out mom, and when he found her,
put his head under her hand.

Tue 01/18/05

The sun was shining all day, but the temperature
was never above freezing. This is the January of
my childhood, knee deep in filth, shivering, wiping nose.

Wed 01/19/05
my fingertips are shredded, raw, and bruised, from pushing glass.

mom is sick, her neck is angry, tired, from pushing my grandmother, my father, all of us.

Thu 01/20/05

Son needs some love bad.
Says it's silly, but he's wrong.
A body made of tears can become
a body made of sweetness:
pop!
Just like that.

Fri 01/21/05

List of significant and interesting injuries:
Skiing concussion,
Dodge-ball broken finger,
Dog bite,
Cow bite,
Human bite,
Bad landing bitten tongue tip,
and today:
polished finger tip.

Sat 01/22/05

I know exactly what you're talking about,
I recently wrote a poem about it.
Quiet now. Listen to what you already know,
presented in very prissy language.

Sun 01/23/05

Once, I thought so too.

But maybe, Shellie, saying
goodbye, perpetually, has
nothing to do with our lifestyle.

See, we're getting older, the
correlation is strong, positive.

Mon 01/24/05

The most important thing Buster
taught me with his miserable

and misdirected violence is
that the vast majority of

battles are pointless and
without victor by nature.

Tue 01/25/05

I've never kept a successful
journal, only things like this.

I was always repulsed by the
idea of recording exactly my

feelings on anything. It seemed
cruel.

Wed 01/26/05

In love before, In
love now. I've had
loves, and together
they tremble, in your
echo and preamble.

No secret messages,
in poetry.
Lovers have no secrets.

Thu 01/27/05

How do they expect me to carry
an entire episode on my own?

They never write stories centered on me.

I'm not ready.
The audience isn't interested.

Fri 01/28/05

I say: "Don't do this to me."

But I realize that nothing is
happening to me. Something is
happening, around me, on me-

it comes, it's over.

Sat 01/29/05

Sometimes things work out:
No one gets sick,
your love is returned,
you never have to wait-
waste time, money, and
the weather cooperates.
Sometimes it doesn't.

Sun 01/30/05

Some machines never
lose fascination. Ice

coating trees, gardens.
A branch fell,

punched through my
fender, leaving a

hole in my
car the size

of my head.

Mon 01/31/05

Locked out, with no one
to call, Jota crashed

through the door, making
his own way in.

Never known him to do
anything else, Never

expected less.

February

Tue 02/01/05

A wall isn't a "security barrier",
there's no legitimate reason to kill,
and a suicide-bomber doesn't bomb
because he's "evil".

I refuse to back down an inch.

Wed 02/02/05

The middle toe on my left foot
is a little numb. It's been like
this for days and days. Is it poor
circulation, or something more sinister?

Thu 02/03/05

Grouting today, smell of linseed
oil, took me instantly, to my
first art set, maybe nine or ten
years old, happy, quiet, I
was a self-taught painter.

Fri 02/04/05

No leader, no psychic, no mystic, no
interpreter of ancient texts, no star.

Just good conversation, to hold back
the deep wine and ink of the hallway.

Sat 02/05/05

It's difficult to know, whether "responsible" is the way
to go, generally. There's too much honey in the
world to watch rain collect in other kings' crowns.

Sun 02/06/05

The way the town smelled
strongest, when I had been
away a little while, and the
train doors opened suddenly
before my face-

something I'm missing today.

Mon 02/07/05

What is more painful than

disappointment? Being the
bigger, or the smaller man,

height differences change
constantly. The line in the sand

is also made of sand.

Tue 02/08/05

I'm walking with

scissors,

Touching the glass,

dog off the leash,

I may only be walking

with scissors,

but I'm opening

and closing them

all the time.

Wed 02/09/05

Shellie requested a eulogy
for sweet kitty Carson, so:

A strange friend, a great
roommate, you may have been
an animal, but you were never
a pet.

Thu 02/10/05

Damn rough, sick again, my
throat behaves as if it
wants nothing to do with me,

been putting off the inevitable
doctor visit, afraid of the news.

Fri 02/11/05

Impassable, Best
American Poetry 2004,

almost exclusively
represents Hejinian's

"movement".

Saffron gates weaken
your knees.

When is a door not a door?

When it has an agenda.

Sat 02/12/05

Been caught for years now
not knowing what sexy was,
exactly. A bit disgusted.
Disgusting.

But lately I'm getting it,
again.

Hint of the sexy know. Now.
Sun 02/13/05

Put down by penicillin, bored
all day, yesterday. Resolved to
get out today. I might even buy
something I don't need. Or eat
something sweet. Or both.

Mon 02/14/05

Green Tea, left-over pizza, Claritin.

Maybe allergies, maybe throat.

But the idea that work is going on without me makes my skin crawl.

Just like death, really.

Tue 02/15/05

Beginning to understand
the utility of property,

of hosting.

Lately I have so little to say,

I want a room filled
with guests, conversation

honey coating me.

Wed 02/16/05

The weather is mild, silent.

The house is empty, as it is

so often now, only the dogs

and myself. This hasn't

turned out as I planned.

Thu 02/17/05

How to:

Neuter cats.
Weather-proof stained-glass windows.
Enter a room for Tea Ceremony.
Figure Net Labor Loss.

Experience is ok,
but a useful skill

might be nice.

Fri 02/18/05

Sleep exhausts me, grand story
arcs, acute, brightly lit against
everyday, leave me blinking.

Need some rest, spending the
rest of my life sleeping off a dream.

Sat 02/19/05

Nashville, seventy-eight dollars, Tower Records, thinking
of Travis' one-legged duck that only swims in circles.

We should leave such perfect metaphors alone, to stand only
for themselves.

Sun 02/20/05

Boy, where are you
going? It's cold
and the rain isn't supposed

to stop until tomorrow.

Say where you're
going, maybe I'll join you.

It's dark out.

Mon 02/21/05

If I love nothing, I can accomplish nothing.
If I write nothing, nothing hurts.

My loves live far apart. Devout. Isolated.
I pass sealed notes between them.

Tue 02/22/05

Beginning each morning
empty, I send my hounds
hunting for art or relevance.

This project keeps me
skinning, always. Resting,

only when each day's entry
is logged.

Wed 02/23/05

I had come here
to kill, but now
maybe just words
are enough:

"The bottle loves
best, not the one
who fills, but the
one who empties.

Thu 02/24/05

In dreams, I'm always building
sweaty spectacular clouds,

lovingly massaging reality into
the smallest details, reinforcements.

I always wake to find new
structures built up around me.

Fri 02/25/05

The Dome left today,

as it glittered through town
people stopped and pointed,

gasped, pronounced:
"Spectacular!, "Exquisite!

I touched every piece
of glass in it,
many times.

Sat 02/26/05

Out of the window:

"You there, boy, what day is it today?

No special day,
no day in particular.

The mule is kicking,
the bull is out.

Sun 02/27/05

Waking at eleven, devoured
garbage, and finding no omens
in the resulting bowel movement
I decided today is perfect for hiding
in bed. Neutered by the rain.

Mon 02/28/05

"Freedom is on the march!

Hogs bark.
While we worry,
about choice,
entitlement,
freedom marches,
advanced by the poor,
young,
and uneducated,

in service of our standard.

March

Tue 03/01/05

Took an evening
photo, and if it
weren't for my
vow to learn no
more life lessons,

I would've learned
one, and this poem
would've taught one.

Wed 03/02/05

Travis says money
makes him uncomfortable,

he hates to think about it.

I resent it, for forcing me
to study it, at the expense
of everything else.

Thu 03/03/05

Mom has returned and the
dogs are delighted. They

keep picking things up
and moving them to new

places- both mom and the
dogs, rebuilding the house.

Fri 03/04/05

Won't worry about last
night, on a day like
today. Arguing, restless:

Was it a dream?

Did it happen?

No matter. The absolute
value is the same.

Sat 03/05/05

I saw two heart-warming things,
but unfortunately not a third.

Understand, it takes three in a row
to melt my icy, icy heart,

even for a moment.

Sun 03/06/05

I miss you Peyton.

I miss you Josh. Matt.
Phil. Jim. And Todd.

I miss you Carlos.

Loves, lovers, missteps, comforts.

I miss you in the spring.

Mon 03/07/05

This work is screwing me as
often as it proves constructive.

It seems no matter how many times
I write "I.
Everyone still reads
"me, and "us.

Tue 03/08/05

No, I've never lived in
an area where killings are
happening. I've passed
through, before, or after.

In that way, I admit, I've
been lucky so far.

Wed 03/09/05

Keep talking,
talker.

My sisters:
the Boxer,
the Player,
they'll take you outside.

If I stand up,
it's pride,
if they stand up for me,
it's noble.

Thu 03/10/05

Today I received
four letters together,
all from the IRS.
They were dated
August, October,
November, and January.
Three stated I owed
money. One was
a check.

Fri 03/11/05

The pink sunset
massaging my sentimentality, or
my squealing intestines- my mutinous body.

Which moment to live in?
Honestly, I have only the emotional capacity
for one.

Sat 03/12/05

I heard
when Lou Reed sang:
"it's such a perfect day,
I'm glad I spent it with you.

"you meant heroin.

If so, if not, I'm happy.

Sun 03/13/05

Back, and the house
was empty. Windows
open, house full of a
perfect day.

Out: People, At least
one dog, All the beer,
and Anything to eat.

Mon 03/14/05

"My friends up here were never Townies.

They're all one-time alterna-kids that got
office jobs right after college at places where
they never thought they would work.

Tue 03/15/05

My friends are either busy, or done
with me: my silence. I haven't heard
from anyone in ages. I'm useless at
any job that requires four hands.

Wed 03/16/05

Waking to the wind

blowing through the cracked window,

I'm shivering, as are the pines,

whose tops want to all touch at once,

twisting, snuggle and struggle.

Thu 03/17/05

Drunk Drunk Drunk St Patrick's Day Savannah.
I must be drunk. Everything that walks by

I'm trying to fuck.
"How you doing? Where you going?

Gimme. Gimme.
Fri 03/18/05

Shivered.
I tried to find a comfortable way to pass
out on the floor.

All night beside me: Queenie
buried her nose in her own vagina: Snorting.

Sat 03/19/05

Liquor. Smokes. Risky Behavior. Now it's
done. I can relax, Eat my cakes. Lay in the
sun. Whatever happens: nothing or worse,

be ready
to settle
down.

Sun 03/20/05

nail hair tooth

good as Strangers

now. Know that bits

of me find their way

into our shared ground

water: you'll drink,

tidally accumulate.

liver lung heart

Mon 03/21/05

John asks what I write
about. Two things only:

Love and Mistakes.

"All poetry is love
poetry, all sentiment is

apology. Something is
breaking. Something is broken.

Tue 03/22/05

Apparently, mosques
are designed so that

once inside, the

worshipper becomes
isolated from society,
nature, distraction:
naturally turning
inward, studying,
praying. Let our

Us be like that.

Wed 03/23/05

I put my finger down
on a point that went
deep. The hole was
barely visible, but it
bled and bled, erupting
in time with my pulse.

Thu 03/24/05

Tired all day. When
I got home, I barely
made it to the bed.

Sleep caught me
and tore me down.

My life is an empty life.

Fri 03/25/05

Soldering today, the fumes
nauseated me a bit. It was
quite challenging.

Sometimes I did well, some parts I ruined,
I've no idea what caused either outcome.

Sat 03/26/05

When you've grown very
fat, you sweat much more
than you used to.

Summer showed itself for
the first time today and
I was shocked:
dripping, mopping

Sun 03/27/05

Rushed home, expecting
foot tapping, "Where
were you? Found no
one.

I put the ham in the oven.
Started the eggs.

I don't know how

to cook.

Mon 03/28/05

Mom's dachshund Winnie is
dying. Each day her breath
grows more strained, her heart
aches. Rescued from starvation,

she's known a home's comfort
only a few years.

Tue 03/29/05

Travis wants me to write
a haiku for a cycling magazine contest.
He wants to win a bike.
"What do I get? I ask.
"Nothing He says.

Wed 03/30/05

I want to say many things to
Chris, before he goes away.

I want to give him words to
travel by, a banner. I probably

won't, however.

Thu 03/31/05

The roof sings. Windows rattle.
Dogs whine and pace, terrified.

I wake up.
The year's first summer storm arrives.

Something intangible gathers and piles.
Something invisible explodes.

April

Fri 04/01/05

Waiting at the gas pump.

Leaving McDonalds, bag in hand.

Squinting in the evening sun.

Always aware:

These are the moments of my life,

slipping away,

squandered.

Sat 04/02/05

I'm happiest working
several jobs at the same
time. Always tired, always
thinking of the time, I never
worry about the Big Things,
only the necessary things.

Sun 04/03/05

Saw Dook's band play the
Memorial Home. Having
never been, I was
amused: world wide,
every small town disco
looks exactly the same.
Siem Reap to Summerville.

Mon 04/04/05

Wide awake, three a.m. Worrying. About
Money, Death, Love. Give me
drugs, alcohol, television, queer sex acts:

I'll accept distraction. I grow less superior
in the predawn.

Tue 04/05/05

Ladybugs in autumn. And in spring: wasps.

The house has become a mine field.
Wherever water collects they wander drunkenly.

One must be vigilant to avoid disaster.

Wed 04/06/05

Shellie is arriving today.

Waiting at the Chattanooga Greyhound station.

I wonder how many hours have I spent like this?

In a station, airport, port, depot ' waiting.

Thu 04/07/05

There is a meal. A spoon. A dog and a
cat. My friend Shellie. My mother. Jim.

There are clothes turning in the washer.
The house hums.

Fri 04/08/05

Since the weather changed, and the rain
turned warm, the dark is thick, soaked
with noise: dogs, frogs, insects, people
talking on the porch: audible but unintelligible.

Sat 04/09/05

All the way down the mountain
we listened to They Might Be Giants
and wished we didn't know
that John once said his lyrics
have no meaning.

Sun 04/10/05

After a perfect Sunday, Shellie and I
will have cake and beer, because
something can always be more perfect:

the key is to move in small steps.

Mon 04/11/05

I've decided on so many
things in my life I cannot
keep up with them all.

Resolutions, forgotten and
rerecorded, adopted and
abandoned again.

My poems reach.

Tue 04/12/05

Megan's birthday is sometime soon,
or was sometime recently, I can't
remember the exact day.

I've known you for ten years.
Happy birthday.

Still in love? Good.

Wed 04/13/05

Wally has a new hot spot,
growing even now.
Judy is pink again.

These diseases creep in,
whenever your back is turned.
You're fine, then you're sick.

Thu 04/14/05

Among new people I
always try to work the
Gay into the conversation
early. Preventing
anyone from making a
joke that might
embarrass them
later. Prevention. Tolerance.

Fri 04/15/05

Chris calls
and I miss him,
but the conversation

is awkward somehow.
Because I'm awkward,
I don't know why. I don't
know.

I need to reassure you.

Sat 04/16/05

I miss
Megan,
and even
Jay,

because Michelle is
here, old habits and
rituals are fashionable
again, and need the
appropriate accessories.

The world
seems large,
unfinished.

Sun 04/17/05

"Does a dog have the Buddhist nature?

Does Winnie, heart failing?
Does mom, spine disintegrating?
Does Jim, affliction unmentionable?
Does Terry, eaten alive with cancer?

"Bark. "Cough.

Mon 04/18/05

This project is becoming
tedious, the poems
are losing their sweetness.

I'm considering adding
new rules and limits.

This could bleed into
everything.

My work will lead.

Tue 04/19/05

Shall we devour those sweet
parts of love only?

Shall we roast in a way that ensures
there is no part that is not a sweet part?

Wed 04/20/05

I must admit love now, I
suppose.

Let's mark the day: this boarder
crossing:

I imagine a life without
would be more painful
than a life with.

Thu 04/21/05

Judy is scratching
at the door, emails
come, there is laundry,

there are dishes. My
attention is demanded,
my attention is elsewhere:

saturated with syrup,
crystals forming.

Fri 04/22/05

Three weeks into the four
job schedule, I'm exhausted
all the time. Always
rushing, on my way
somewhere. Thinking of
every penny. Creditors gather
and wait, hungry.

Sat 04/23/05

Sleeping in Chris's bed
without him. For convenience.

Right now he's my
Anna Ng: opposite me.

Sleeping in his bed, that will
likely be our bed, alone.

Sun 04/24/05

These girls at work,
seventeen, eighteen. Say:

"That's so gay.
"Oh, I hope that doesn't
offend you¦sorry.

"It doesn't.
Should it? It's not
my careless mouth.

Mon 04/25/05

The rules changed. I realize
the work is now subtly guided
by the assumption that it will
be read by the people mentioned.

Erosion reveals the unspoken.

Tue 04/26/05

It's true, that dawn and dusk
are best. Beauty is difficult to
ignore in those moments when
everything waits together silently
to see what will happen next.

Wed 04/27/05

As mom is away, and Jim
and I are useless, the yard
hasn't been cut in ages.

It's full of daisies: when Winnie
runs, she disappears completely.

Thu 04/28/05

Amy Ray's "Rural Faggot reminds me:

I'm not a punch line.
I'm not a mascot.
I've legitimate stories to tell.

It's Eggers' net. My
hurt. You're hurting.

Fri 04/29/05

Jasmine! Slipping
out! Tearing away!

Antagonizing every
neighborhood dog
in her path.

I followed her
cacophonous controversy
three miserable sticky
April evening miles

before I caught her.

Sat 04/30/05

Prom night:
the kids come in
loud, awkward, slicked,
and sparkling. I serve
them and I find I
can't remember
what it felt like
to be them.

May

Sun 05/01/05

Sunday morning driving, seven thirty:
the city is an empty city. The bridge
is an empty bridge.

The pressure balances,
inside and out. Nothing
seeks new space.

Mon 05/02/05

Miserable. Tired from sleep.

Thinking of Slockwoo, angers
me, strengthens me. Fuck you
fate. Fuck you stars.

We're More, and more buoyant
than our moods, our afflictions.

Tue 05/03/05

Without fail, sick
on vacation, every
time. My fever beat
me to the room.

Boiling Bourbon St.
Ruining my reunion.
I'm in bed, home away
from home.

Wed 05/04/05

Clover Grill, where
they: "love to fry
and it shows." Best
part of my day.

Massive black queen
running the place,
makes sure everyone
present is smiling.

Thu 05/05/05

Find Royal St, Royal St
becomes St Charles. Take
the St Charles streetcar
line to the stop after
Nashville. Look at school.

Come back. Back into bed.

Fri 05/06/05

I've seen dogs

trying to enjoy several
mutually exclusive treats
at once. They gallop between
choices, spilling, until

there is no choice
but to sit and pant.

Sat 05/07/05

In Florida now the castle
is no longer your home.

You carry your castle. No
knights. No kings.

Only peasants with
guns, defending tiny castles.

Standing. Grounded.

Sun 05/08/05

People say:
"I can't believe this is happening."

How could you not
believe? There it is.

Solar dust creeps
outward. Here. Gone.

"All signs point to Yes."
Mon 05/09/05

I've never had a house
on a parade route. Perhaps
the time has come. Go
where things pass by, instead
of simply pass. Go
where feet march.

Tue 05/10/05

I feel like singing, if I
were a singer

I'd sing.
If I were a smoker, I'd

smoke.

Since
I'm not
either, I

write.
Writer or not.

Wed 05/11/05

When I spend
a day at home
sick, I end up

blue blue blue.

The best cure
is work. Go to
work. Work until

I can't stand.

Thu 05/12/05

Someone told me:
"You hold your beer
like you're choking it.

That's because I want
to be sure I won't drop it.

Leave nothing important
to chance.

Fri 05/13/05

My boss, Nikki:

"You've got so much experience with, and knowledge about, so many different things, why not cooking?"

Me:

"I've never been paid to do it."

Sat 05/14/05

Exhaustion, fatigue, these words
are beginning to be useless, when
describing my feelings. My cloud
seems never-ending. The standard:
Rolling on in the sky, everywhere.
On, On.

Sun 05/15/05

I've no understanding of
ramifications, ripples.

Science states reality
is unfathomably different

from the observable. What
does this mean for me, today,

behind the counter, counting
minutes?

Mon 05/16/05

Don't tell
me. Yes. Is

it yes? No?
It's No. Oh,

that's cool.
No, no really.

It's fine. It
wasn't really

that important.
Yeah, yeah. I'm

fine.

Tue 05/17/05

These songs won't leave me
alone. I've been listening to
Joanna Newsome's record for
months, and it's new all the time.

These strange jewels: grow, tangle, bloom.

Wed 05/18/05

One. Two. Three.
Four. Five. Six.
Seven. Eight. Nine.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.
Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen.

Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one.
Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four.
Twenty-five. Twenty-six. Twenty-seven.

Thu 05/19/05

Evening now, May, and the
weather is perfect on East

Dallas Road. A runner passes
the door every few minutes.

Jasmine stands, barks, every
time, defending us.

Fri 05/20/05

I called for my schedule, I assumed
they would fire me. I was
nervous and ashamed of being so
nervous about a part-time job. I
wasn't fired.

Sat 05/21/05

Everything I write (re: daydream
about writing) turns instantly
to memoir. I don't like it served
that way, but what can you do?

That's how it comes.

Sun 05/22/05

The more I
do, the more
things I find

left undone,

by someone
else. It defeats
me. I used to

say I wanted

to go into
politics.

Mon 05/23/05
Of the several things
I prefer to sex, completing
the New York Times
Sunday crossword is the
most satisfying by
leagues. I beam, skull
deep in clever.

Tue 05/24/05

Love to watch the runners
go by. Near naked,
glistening, chest, ass, thighs:

they leave me suspended. No
need to be old, to be a dirty man.

Wed 05/25/05

Jim defends himself
against my mother
on the phone: I'm ready

to sacrifice, take the
heat: Let things solve:

Let my heart dissolve:
Be free in solution.

Thu 05/26/05

To my enemies:
so my self-portrait,
so my defeat.
So it is.
So it continues.

Today comes the deciding straw.

Drink of my liquor,
your liquor now.

Fri 05/27/05

How comforting prayer
must be to the faithful.

When unable to help those
we love who are hurting, what
an effective poultice for
our own resulting pain.

Sat 05/28/05

What are they listening to,
or for? See them when

they lay in the grass, or
turn their heads slightly above

their beers: Ready, ears up,
waiting.

Sun 05/29/05

How many years should be struggle spent?
Must our children wed barbarians?
How will I know when to run
with my canine bride to a faraway country?

Mon 05/30/05

Twenty-one Smiths:

likely young, maybe
arrogant, probably
certain of purpose,
possibly uncertain
in the desert night.

Twenty-one Smiths:

fathers, daughters,
mothers, sons. Killed
dead far from home.

Tue 05/31/05

Planned to see Snap's new house
with Amy and dad. Took off work,

to give them plenty of time to make
it happen. We didn't even go.

June

Wed 06/01/05

Friends, bring me a seer. Bring
me direction. Save me from the
pain of watching a path fork
and move away, meeting the
horizon and disappearing forever.

Thu 06/02/05

Pull us down
into the ink,

I'm ready, so
long as it's not

in a blink, but
a long slow fade,

not fireworks, but
the resulting smoke.

Fri 06/03/05

Turn the television
up, and read my book
about cosmic theory.

I'll wait until the last
possible moment to go
into work. Never late.

Never too early.

Sat 06/04/05

Walk down Market after
work, giggle at the necks
outside the neck club, and
try to drink down my
near-life experience at
a minor sort of bar.

Sun 06/05/05

Mariko called from
Florida: "Make careful
choices. Be Sure.

Because finals are
driving her to tears

and crying every day
is not as fun as it sounds.

Mon 06/06/05

Buster pushes me

against the car.

Jake dies.

Something happens

in America, phone

lines are choked, the

internet is frozen.

We find my books

destroyed by termites.

Tue 06/07/05

Buster won't play
on command, has
to be begged.

I heard he burnt
the shed down
the other night-

played. I haven't
heard my father
in years.

Wed 06/08/05

How massive was our front
yard, now your front yard?

Does it feel the same, with
your new family, as it did
in our barefoot baby summers?

Thu 06/09/05

Jota, you hero, you doctor daddy:
You gimme my medicine.
You tell me how it is,
when no one else will.
You love me I love you.

Fri 06/10/05

Buster I'm headed into your bed
to save you. You have to stop
killing everything around you.

Stop killing us.

You already have a life to waste.

Sat 06/11/05

My sister is my last
living family member.

Bark, you can't
fuck up. Don't get
drunk, don't get
crazy. Be cool.

We'll swim together
through the undertow.

Sun 06/12/05

This speaks: a high fence
with vines climbing all over it,
living, blooming: sweet vapor.

I built a killing net. People built
their nests right inside it.
Mon 06/13/05

Look:

"The multimillion-dollar propaganda campaign
run out of the White House and Defense Department
was, in Gardiner's final assessment
'irresponsible in parts' and 'might have been illegal.

Tue 06/14/05

Alice camped on the porch
with Nickie, watched from
the rocking chair. He died,

and she hides now with Wally
in the barn. Does she remember Nickie?

Wed 06/15/05

Atlanta tonight, there is a good chance
the old boyfriend will meet the new one.

Let Rufus make it better. Sing about it
baby, make it better.

Thu 06/16/05

On I75 today there was
fire all over the road.

In the median. On both
sides of the freeway.

Smoke everywhere, thick.
No clues to it's origin.

Fri 06/17/05

I've never kept house, but if
I'm going to live in a house I'm
going to have to learn.

Even if it's a doghouse, down in Trembleville.

Sat 06/18/05

Sweetness, ( ) ( )
( ) ( ) ( )
( ) ( ), ( )
( ) awkward disclosure,

( ) ( ) ( )
( ) pretension: ( )
( ): ( ) ( )
( ) ( ) ( ),

something dog related.

Sun 06/19/05

So much of this is already
Buster's, why should he get
another day? He's in every moment
every day. Over, behind, and, always,
in front of me.

Mon 06/20/05

Because death
is always a

surprise, let's not
waste a moment

worrying. Let's
just make dinner,

and clean it up
again. Give the

waste to the dog.

Tue 06/21/05

Went to pick up
Wally down the
road, but he
wouldn't get near
me, or in the
car, so I drove
home, creeping, with
him running behind.

Wed 06/22/05

So far I have worked
and left nineteen jobs
that I can remember.

I hated most of them most days.

I've always resented
infringement on my time.

Thu 06/23/05

It's very much like coming
out, every time I have to tell
someone new that I've put
off school. Being the object of
disappointment, of pride withdrawn.

Fri 06/24/05

Reading a book about
quantum physics: collapsing
waves and instant properties.

I reach a point where the
author writes:

"Why?
No one knows.

(My spirit is broken.)

Sat 06/25/05

It's difficult to sketch
a certain place in this
global age,

when every city
is simply The City,

and every town
is simply stores
along a highway.

Sun 06/26/05

Weak, my heart turns
needle out:

London streets,
Yosemite meadows,
Sacramento Bars,
Philadelphia coffee houses.

Rome, gardenias.
Cambodia, hot, wet.
And strange mother
Japan: again and again.

Mon 06/27/05

This doomsday device, will
destroy us all, because we
are components, and it abhors
moderation.

Empty my wallet to fill up
my car. This is the truth.

Tue 06/28/05

Stand! They're closing in
around us. We need a leader.

We may be dick enough,
pec enough, ab enough, but
we're sure as hell not man enough.

Wed 06/29/05

Today is moving
day. Again. Where

am I going?

Forward. Beyond

that, I don't know.
I've seen the

ephemeral fall
away. I've seen the

illusory fall. Away.

Thu 06/30/05

My mind is changing, violent
revolution, burning things
down, blood of tyrants and patriots
and the like: gimme a gun, I want
to be ready. Head High.

July

Fri 07/01/05

With each aspersion
cast, and each betrayal,

let me grow, fatter, more
spacious, and retreat still

more to the center, away
from my skin: the dangerous

borderland.

Sat 07/02/05

I can't sleep alone
in this moaning
house, shivering under
sheets I hear steps, then
bangs. I see shadows,

and my midnight heart
plays tricks on me.

Sun 07/03/05

This love has yet to cover
my "deep shiver my beloved
fury, but it seems to break me
into many lesser devils, whose
mischief is unfocused, amusing.

Mon 07/04/05

On a dead-end
road, next to
a liquor store,

everyone screams
skyward, smoke
explodes. I try

to take pictures
of the sparks, but
things fade

so quickly.

Tue 07/05/05

Loves:
is how we've loved:
ripe with love:
clarified by time and distance:
antennae out:
waving:
find the honey:
bring the honey:
spin it into baby food.

Wed 07/06/05

Do you owe me your
secrets? I've known
you so long to be
mysterious, I expect
it. What are you
hiding? Why won't
you share with me?

Thu 07/07/05

How can we make
priorities, decide
what's relevant? I
never thought post
cold war would mean
good old fashioned
war was on it's way
back. In style.

Fri 07/08/05

Been eating too late
lately. Eating when

served. How fat is
too fat, and how thin

is stretched too thin?

I'm going
to have to
work late.

Sat 07/09/05

Open the door, look
out at the dark: many
things are colliding.

Evie is moving
somewhere, won't
pick up. Michelle
calls and I miss it.

Bridges dissolve.

Sun 07/10/05

This tar black
comedy: These
peasant pigs
with holsters over
flowing with bile.

Trigger itchy,
ready to fall
apart, dying
for power where
there never was
power.

Mon 07/11/05

Now this has to
end, finally, pulled

out by the root.

Time has made me
bold. I'm a big fat
man now. Get out.

I will engage.

Tue 07/12/05

When is the work
a chore? In a world
built as a never-ending
spring break, bitches
gone wild, scores of
peasants do my bidding:

write for me.

Wed 07/13/05

Happy birthday.
You might ask

what difference
one word could

make. Who first
spoke revolution?

Retreat?

Perhaps I need
twenty-seven

mistakes to build
one word of terrible

truth.

Thu 07/14/05

Rather have dignity than faith.
Rather show respect than piety.

I dress for places of
worship, lower my
voice, take no photos:

religion escapes
me, manners do not.

Fri 07/15/05

"Mild form of autism

means nothing
to me, except there
must be some
difference between
folks like me, and
folks who make up
names for collections
of symptoms.

Sat 07/16/05

Why stake a claim to something
you will never use?

Why accumulate wealth?
Why snatch from others?
Why hoard, refine?

Let people use, enjoy, exhaust,
who know how.

Sun 07/17/05

I'm beginning, lately, to suspect
that people make families
for themselves, at least
in part, so that
they don't have to
keep saying goodbye to
people they love.

Mon 07/18/05

About what I want
to do, what I mean
to do, I always lie.

Unintentionally. Truth
is impossible in
these matters. Truth
is

what I meant to do.

Tue 07/19/05

I understand Zach

has begun his
conversion. I hope

he is able to find
some peace, gay

or not. Life is

enormous. Sex is
fundamental, but

not singular.

Wed 07/20/05

I thought I had
a hernia, something
emerged from my
pubic mound:

screaming with
pain. Went to the
doctor, he found
nothing, and offered

no explanations,
only prescriptions.

Thu 07/21/05

How turtles swim: Pawing through
the fluid, float and turn. In no hurry
to devour something tiny, but never
letting the opportunity pass. Not
pleased, not necessarily worried.

Fri 07/22/05

Now summer is
strongest, midday
is a misery of steam,

and the cicadas and
amphibians caterwaul
through evening's tepid milk.

Maybe talking to each
other, maybe just talking.

Sat 07/23/05

Everyone keeps trying
to find me and engage
me, in sex or catching
up conversation, in
monologue in dialogue
clothes, or in
drinks, wine, smoke.
Leave me, dogs.

Sun 07/24/05

How something explodes:

there is a stillness, animals
are suddenly quiet, then
there is a flash, noise and chaos.

Where from? Anywhere.
Why explode? Any reason at all.

Mon 07/25/05

That paycheck, them cents, them dollars.
Get them. Take them. Look back
senator, 1997. What since then? Today
is too short to make enough to pay for it.

Tue 07/26/05

Out of bed and dreams
of coming days, lawn parties,

when the first bull
is sacrificed, there is no technique

in particular that can replace
faith and humility.

Wed 07/27/05

Bush fiddles on
and there is no
inquiry, 20,000
civilians dead,

more soldiers pile
everyday, there
are no questions,

no one in the
street, Dylan is
selling lingerie.

Thu 07/28/05

Desperately afraid
of the difference between
being a writer
and an appreciator
of writing.

Inside is a room
without a door,
twenty-eight times
as big as the world.

Fri 07/29/05

Today's headache is
mean beyond description. I've

tried rest, water,
beer, with no success.

My third eye
is an expanding telescope,

the extra weight
is pitching me forward.

Sat 07/30/05

I long to run
away from home, I
have not faded

as expected, but only
grow brighter, harder
to ignore, two years now,

I've been trying to settle.

Sun 07/31/05

The stillness is absolute, inside
and out. Nothing moves in

the house, not even the dog,

and the world outside is
static, there is no breeze at all.

August

Mon 08/01/05

Light! Light! There are thousands

of translucent containers

in the fridge, with things

inside, unappetizing things.

What are they? I cannot tell you

because I do not know.

Tue 08/02/05

Travis told me he read some
of my poems yesterday and was
sad. It's not the first time he has
told me this. Why return to
what hurts?

Wed 08/03/05

Never saw a break, until I saw it broken
completely. Been dark days. Forget

things, to do things, and people seem far
away, irrelevant. But, I don't worry.

Thu 08/04/05

Here is the bone, but not
the muscle.
The black, the white, but not
the color.
Nothing in between the lines.
Love: saturated, incontrovertible,
or nothing at all.

Fri 08/05/05

Like photos paintings, poems
have a composition. The rule
of thirds applies.

Unlike visual
art, however, poetry must show
extreme restraint.

A restless or
exuberant sentiment
embarrasses everyone.

Sat 08/06/05

Lessen learn. Drive my car
until it dies beneath me, then
leave it and walk, until I walk
through my shoes. This is
where I find my sexy.

Sun 08/07/05

These thousand trips
abroad everyday, what

use are they?

These swirling whirlpools
of self-indulgence. Perhaps

suicide is the answer.

Can I simply stop, any
day now? Perhaps

Today!

Mon 08/08/05

Five colors, but the hue
difference is indistinguishable
to me. Five, but everything
is red. Red then gray. Red again.

Colors don't change themselves;
my eyes.

My eyes.

Tue 08/09/05

Bly said stone devil dogs
guard the hearts of men.

But what of dogs on
the offensive, those low

foxes pacing me, growing
more bold all the time?

Wed 08/10/05

There are things I
want, vaguely, unfortunately.

But no five-year
plan, no plan at all
really. I feel that
this makes me
unforgivably un-American.

Alien, unfit for credit.

Thu 08/11/05

Them Carpet Guys: friendly enough, but
looked like three starving coyotes.

Meth's got hold of the white
trash, sure enough.

Everyone got real fat, then
real real thin.

Fri 08/12/05

Lady Ruth, caught
what a man could not,
1936.

What else will history
reveal as hubris?

What other mysteries
are best approached
as a mother,

not a hunter?

Sat 08/13/05

Born queer: fit
for shame: taught
by a crazed alcoholic
to grind and mill
the world.

"I can't help it if I'm lucky.

Drinking the world
as tea.

Sun 08/14/05

I need a big house
where all my loves
can come

to come home.

Everyone has a bed
and family is defined
only by the walls and floor.

Mon 08/15/05

Nothing is knowable from inside itself.

Only
when a life is consumable, finished,
can we taste
the ripening, the nectar
of the climax.

Your denouement comes: odorless, flavorless.

Tue 08/16/05

Above me
a spider drains
a moth.

In hunting, giving, consuming love:

we are both
death's food, and life's own body and cells,

where the two are indivisible.

Wed 08/17/05

I keep forgetting
to live simply.

Worrying about work, my
customers, the commute.

The dog reminds
me, with her single
minded exuberance.

But I forget again
and again.

Thu 08/18/05

In the evening,
there are circles
closing, things that

once were eclipsed
are eclipsing, and the
raining rain, and the

storming storm, mean
little more than
more evening.

Fri 08/19/05

For the third time:

you, and you
all, have my
apologies.

I've still no
idea what I'm
doing.

To abstract
to such a supernatural level
is probably unforgivable.

Sat 08/20/05

I'm aware
that there are fortunes stolen
all the time, and
that there are more out there,

but how do I get at them?

Where are they exactly?

Sun 08/21/05

So easy
to love Vickie
and Justin, so easy

for them
to look forward.
Since I don't, I just

want to
be near the sugar,
when crystals form.

Mon 08/22/05

I was in a tepid bath
staring at the wall when

nothing stopped.
The universe
kept right on
blowing itself up,

without my help.

Some days,
everything terrifies.

Tue 08/23/05

Chris is away
and Jasmine doesn't know
what to do with herself.

She paces, whines.

I rearrange the furniture
and grind my teeth, but not
because it's fashionable.

Wed 08/24/05

Eventually, I will be torn
from the lives of those
who loved me,

by disease or accident.

But what does it mean?

Something, nothing?

Is there any difference?

Thu 08/25/05

There is more to prettiness
than this. I've seen it before.

I'm concerned that I might
never be able to reconcile
what fills my days
with my mortality.

Fri 08/26/05

Evie worries about me

and I love her for it.
I love her

like I just saw her
this afternoon.

Let years rise, they
are meaningless to me.

Sat 08/27/05

Occasionally, the people
I serve
speak to me like
I've a bone between my teeth.

When there's nothing left
to laugh about,

that is perfection.

Absolute comedy, finally.

Sun 08/28/05

The weather is changing
quickly.

New Orleans is under
water.

The air is ninety percent
resignation

and my lungs have had
enough.

I can hold my breath
indefinitely.

Mon 08/29/05

I take nothing on faith.
I don't watch for signs,
omens.

But I'm not above
letting my life be shaped
by chance and
circumstance.

Come waters.
Come storms.

Tue 08/30/05

Early today
I wrote: "My old crutch
is failing. I need.

Later a man
across the counter
asked if I "knew Jesus.

Perhaps I have been an alarmist.

Wed 08/31/05

I was sitting outside
in the sun when
a jogger passed
with her dog.

I was struck quietly
but certainly with
the death panic.

There was no reason.

September

Thu 09/01/05

Despite death, and
property irreplaceable,

I enjoy thinking
of water, rising over
Olive Gardens, Wal-Marts, Starbucks,

drowning them, and sweeping them
down into darkness.

Wiping the earth clean.

Fri 09/02/05

"hungry desperate
people who were tired of waiting
broke through
the steel doors¦
An old man in a chaise lounge
lay dead¦ as hungry babies
wailed around him.

Sat 09/03/05

I heard a friend
of a friend is
making trips to

The City going in
with food and water

and out
with refugees,

passing inert soldiers
each time.

Sun 09/04/05

There is a change
in the atmosphere
today, a bright cool spike

in the sky, and my deepest,
most simple animal
heart says:

"scramble, hoard, fatten.
Be ready.

Mon 09/05/05

Stop taking to me
about what I don't have
and can't get,

you miserable bastards.
Salesmen and herding dogs,

fencing me, and us.

I don't need anything else.

Tue 09/06/05

Today I wore my old
"it's better in the Bahamas shirt.

Meeting a young man
crossing the street
wearing the same shirt

I was amazed,
he seemed indifferent.

Wed 09/07/05

Cool enough
this morning
for sleeves.

The drive to
work was long
and slow under
a pink speckling
of clouds.

There was nothing
about the world
I hated.

Thu 09/08/05

Buster wants to hand me property:
a string is held in stress:
it is struck and it sings:
it is struck again and silenced:
some efforts are singular.

Fri 09/09/05

Listening to Roy Orbison, I cannot
speak. Only love.

Leave sugar in footprints.

Space alien, wigged Buddha, if I could
kiss your belly or boots.

I'd never stop.

Sat 09/10/05

Ugliness is surprisingly absent
in predawn shopping centers.

Lights glow in fog, store buildings
lord over emptiness, and silent

as ghosts the parking spaces
wait to be useful.

Sun 09/11/05

Like a child, after

long years, the long day, and the long drive

home, I want to sit

on the floor and cry openly: Self-indulgent,

frustrated and ordinary.

Mon 09/12/05

Old photos:

Italy,
ghetto Christmas,
Peyton,
Allison's wedding,
Cross-country hubris.

My ribs open, my heart
is on the table, now it's
outside in the street, now
it's gone.

Tue 09/13/05

Allison keeps sending
pictures of her baby.

Her family. There is so
much joy in them.

Everyone is beaming.
How does that happen?

What foreign place
houses them?

Wed 09/14/05

Twice now: when I've gotten into
as much trouble as possible:

Deus ex Machina: no
debt: no worry:

The gods favor me: I expect
nothing and sacrifice regularly.

Thu 09/15/05

Drunk, watching adolescents
rock the shit out of this

club, I realize, at this point
in my life, enjoying something

and ridiculing it are exactly
the same thing.

Fri 09/16/05

Due to this, due to other
things, I'm beginning

to understand the utility
of obstacles.

Dare

your art. Set snares.
I am weak. My poems

grow bigger.

Stronger.

Sat 09/17/05

Terrible night's sleep full
of sad strange dreams in
a sad strange hotel: itchy paper
thin sheets: frigid air
conditioning: broken locks:

Williamstown, Kentucky:

three dollars, sixty-seven cents.

Sun 09/18/05

A baby is coming. My heart
fills the sky, I can see

everyone I know. All the love
I have belongs to the child. Let it

go on.

Mon 09/19/05

Up regularly now
before dawn. Sunrises

have become precious
to me.

Today marveling
the silent pink, I thought

of James: an American
now, when

it is least fashionable.

Tue 09/20/05

"The Leaders
are the sun of the nation and mankind.

"America
I've given you all and now I'm nothing.

From dirt roads
dust rises: look,
daybreak is golden.
Wed 09/21/05

Last night Justin
sang something like:

"I'm twenty-one now, but I still feel the same.

Twenty-eight now, I
don't remember how
twenty-one felt. I'm
certain it was different.

Thu 09/22/05

Know, Evelyn,
the corners of my mouth

turn down, at the thought
of any man, who finds

some way to not
adore you. He is foolish

beyond redemption.

Fri 09/23/05

Two days
I've talked shit
talked politics
talked religion

talked about
how much I try
not to talk too much.

Chasing my tail. Stop.

Look down, look in.

Sat 09/24/05

A bus explodes, old people burn
alive. Canal Street is knee deep
again.

Shall we turn
to religion? To
divination?

What

omen.

What

read sacrificial

feathers and blood.

Sun 09/25/05

How magically! How quickly,
we become that

which we ridicule. Have I
offended some

clever gypsy? I can see nothing
through this

fog of curses swirling
around me.

Mon 09/26/05

I I I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I I I I I

I I I I I I I
me.

Tue 09/27/05

Tomorrow I have an interview
for a job for which I am absolutely
over qualified. I'm

shaving. I'm
taking out
my jewelry. I'm
going ahead now.

I'm going.

Wed 09/28/05

"My mum flipped
right the fuck out
last night¦my dad
just has his binoculars
permanently attached
to his eyes. All he sees
is birds.

Love you,

Evie

Thu 09/29/05

Out of time, my context has gone
strange: Michelle is here, we are both
out on the job hunt: Leaves, red on
the ground today for the first time.

Fri 09/30/05

It's the YFSAD home game:

I found a (noun), it
reminded me

of (pronoun), (season)
is coming, and

the dogs are (adjective).

My heart is a/an (adjective) (noun).

October (again)

Sat 10/01/05

Been making poems now
seven years.

Reading old ones,
They seem so certain,
glazed with zealotry.

Who was that man?

I've only his ideas to suck. Golden
preserves.

Sun 10/02/05

Science: poets
die younger than other writers.

Dutton: labels
are meaningless.

So, I will
be a Chinese Herbalist, write
medicine, live one hundred years.

Back Darkness! Back
Dogs!

Mon 10/03/05

Last night Dutton interrupted
my dreams with

whispered fortune-telling. Directions
found themselves

and the
future, like a drug, put us to

sleep. Birds outside
the window stirred, irritated.

Tue 10/04/05

Wellbutrin!

I'm bubbling. Silly.
Girlish.

Wellbutrin!

My mind collects,
falls apart again.

Wellbutrin!

My cheeks are sore
from smiling.

Wellbutrin!

Poems are for the
wallflowers.

Wellbutrin!

Sweet Jesus.

Wed 10/05/05

Watching Hillary and Jasmine
play in the bright bright
afternoon yard
this thought: nothing is the same
once it is aware, once "deconstructed

there is no return route.

Thu 10/06/05

Bark's birthday, try
to remember everything
I can about her. Let
the act of recollection bleed
into things

forgotten, renewing, so
when I call her
later, I'm smiling.

Fri 10/07/05

Until recently I was
consistently sure, nose up proud:

of myself, my ideas, my
acts. Everything

has turned inside out. Head-standed
I'm ashamed, second-class.

Considering failure:
its limits.

Sat 10/08/05

Cold today.

Sitting at
the window, I smell winter
and each thing it might

mean, as the dogs can smell
each ingredient,

in the soup on the stove.

Sun 10/09/05

As kids, on Sundays, instead
of church we watched movies
all morning. The Color Purple,

Watership Down. The mark
these films left
on our lives, cannot
be understated.

Mon 10/10/05

My death panic: Slockwoo's survivor guilt.

Unnecessary sentiment: we don't owe anything
to this universe machine: things spin, fly: muons

don't know you. Or want to know you.

Tue 10/11/05

Gave everyone
too much credit, and

though I wouldn't have
believed it could happen,

I've arrived where I began.

The pack was stronger, but
will not be always.

Wed 10/12/05

This drugging has convinced me

I've been asleep for a while. Things
that were difficult to see or easy
to ignore now stand out. I'm looking

forward, whole.

Thu 10/13/05

Hillary is now
pissing in submission, whenever I approach.

What did I do
to this bitch? I try to show her how

to behave, but
she doesn't care.

Fri 10/14/05

I meditate by drawing
abstracts, not abstracts

like my poems, which
are condensed, evaporated

truth. But abstracts

which are meandering
paths to a whole, lines

untrue, but pleasing.

Sat 10/15/05

Sunset melts everything
into fuzzy honey:

I tear up:

my mouth fills with
amendments:

apologies:

declarations:

until,
in an effort to save us,
I am forced to swallow.

Sun 10/16/05

In Shellie, Dutton:
see myself, ringing

bones.
"Where ring is what a bell does.

An alarm. But also
where ring is what

a dog does, chasing
rabbits forever.

Mon 10/17/05

So tired
of dogs: infantile
needs, expectant
looks, bad behavior.

Can't manage
myself, much less
all these babies.

I have so little left
to give away,
most nights.

Tue 10/18/05

Someone may ask: "What did you learn?

How to make a mess.

I learned what
we already knew
and everyone told me
repeatedly.

Always sweet, better, moving forward.

Wed 10/19/05

Down in a fever
priorities become meaningless.

All I can manage
is to let the dogs out
and let them in again.

Blinking into a blur
of daylight.

Thu 10/20/05

Lately memories
of joy, have been

finding their way
to me on the breeze.

Awakened, I want

to follow them
to their source.

Hunting,
sniffing out

elusive sugar.