I had lost the notebook, but found it again the other day. Here are more selections from the "Love's Going To Live Somewhere Else For Awhile, OK?" collection, c. 1998. (And here is a link to the remainder of the collection.)
Incidentally: these poems now mean even less to me, the writer, than they do to you, the reader. Still, thank you for reading them, for looking at this snapshot of my psyche from 10 years ago and laughing at my psyche's long hair, peach-fuzz mustache and Camaro.
****
He doesn't get high anymore.
He just is.
How sad is that?
****
I talked to my dad the other day.
It's been about 9 months, I guess.
He didn't recognize my voice, so
we hung up without really talking.
*****
His story doesn't begin or end here.
Rather it's a collection of pieces scattered
across cities, under the blackjack table,
in the seat cushions of various taverns.
(Note: And *that* is how you subconsciously plagiarize a late-80s Tennis magazine story about Bjorn Borg's ill-fated, star-crossed comeback. If that wasn't verbatim, it was damn close.)
*****
Settling in for a nice round of
menáge-á-moi - I couldn't get your
face out of my head.
*****
I keep opening the cabinet next to me,
almost obsessively,
as if I were expecting a random portal
to appear and whisk me away
*****
9-9-98 - 3:30 am
I.
Feeling like a total and complete amateur
II.
I know in my heart that I won't be forgotten
It's just that the things I'll be remembered for
aren't the ones I'd prefer
III.
I'm sorry for fucking things up and
making you believe things that I, too, believed
IV.
I wish I still held the magic over you that
you still do over me, but I have a hard
enough time turning water into ice - wine
is out of the question.
V.
What I wouldn't give for another crisis to take
my mind off this one
What I wouldn't give to put it all behind us now
VI.
I feel like I've died and gone to hell ...
****
Fuck You, Thornton Wilder
This town is like a pair of bikini briefs that are two sizes too small.
*****
I miss Lisa.
She'd get high with me and think I was Rosie the Robot.
*****
Prom.
*****
In the 18 minutes since I last looked at the clock,
I have:
*****
They've Got The Bomb Now
I think we'd look good together
You know me - I'm the dork in the glasses
Holding a couple of beers
And you're the gorgeous one with the sunglasses on your head
Nonchalant, like you couldn't give a shit about Pakistan
----------------
Now playing: Sloan - If It Feels Good Do It
via FoxyTunes
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
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Ahh, the Richard Brautigan era...
ReplyDeleteHey, I heard there's a "Dwight Sings Buck" album coming out.
Yeah. Bramble Tamble: The Brautigan Years. Or Days. Or whatever. Or That Time I Got Drunk And Thought I Could Channel Brautigan.
ReplyDeleteDwight was on GACK (Great American Country Kountry) a couple of weekends ago touting his Buck album. I thought it was supposed to be out in November, but Amazon says it comes out Tuesday. The first single/video is "Close Up The Honky Tonks," which is the only one on the album that I hadn't heard Buck do. The video is artsy, as you'd expect a Dwight video to be anymore. You know, since he's a thespian.
That means he's into chicks, right?
ReplyDelete(Shades of the time several of us were in the school play at SHS and someone had the bright idea to put signs that said "Master Thespian" on our lockers, inviting much confused ridicule.)