03-10-09

empty glasses leave things to desire

antiseptic light breaks the fourth wall

we sit on benches in march

bars filled with unemployable twenty somethings

you went west you learned nothing

we are not creative or interesting

I feel trapped by this form

away, walking along the great wall

two letters, heavy petters M. Y.

your fingers smell like smoke, too

washed out and half there stories

apart; morning breaks as night stirs

our poems are out memoirs, poetically

toeing the line between profunfity and kitsch

it was too cold to care

my heart burns there too, sometimes

count your blessings we're all together

things like this just kill me

affirming the least sincere since 1998

try to understand the smallest ones

your poems are better than mine

you're cute your friends are cuter

pen and paper. bread and water.

english majors rarely write good poems

I can't fee the economy ...yet

you speak to strangers on sidewalks

we mispell our words, adding meaning

we slip a lot in thought

kitty laughed as she read this

honestly can these be considered poetry?

poems are answers to unasked questions

lizz and a frenchman, outside

english majors write beautiful poetry, jerk

I'll stop talking, let's just kiss

murals of men in the bathroom

I can not consider you anymore

talk to me about your heart

I'm in love with your brain

I go in your room, daily!

you're cuter when you don't laugh

meet me on the information superhighway

this is the seventh page... GO!

I don't care that you're gone

a french man brought her flowers

we talked about our love, loudly!

hi pierre. you are drunk, too.

let's pretend we're pretending it's real

my sister is kissing a frenchman

cheap woman, cheap hotel. rich life.

you're fucking up my words, woman

we've written poetry in dark bars

you read newspapers, I read stars

quit. quit. quit. quit. relapse. quit.

telling drunk men your life story

liquor writes these poems -- not us

the jobs we mostly call blow

everyone is hungry for something new

handwriting worsens as glasses pile up

we are just where we are

I wore your scarf last night

you remind me of my cat

layers and layers of gorgeous fabric

kitty's in the bathroom doing coke

looks like this page is mine

kitty can't see behind her sunglasses

cats are awesome little things, right?

we have a dinner reservation now

tell him angst isn't that cool

I'm leaving now. you can, too.

keep her in check, little sister

just NOT enough time with pierre