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Tuesday, October 31, 2006


I Feel More Like I Did When I Got Here Than I Do Right Now

I walked my first steps in a hair salon, stumbling to the buzz
of blow dryers and clapping old women, fell flat to black
linoleum, laughing in spasms. Pride: that first broken arm,
first bath alone, first morning drive free of child seats, first kiss,

first performance of oral sex under playground equipment,
prostrate, beestung stomach, pale legs and passing trains
squeezing my ears, that strange scene under the yellow canopy
of her skirt, crescent moonlight shooting through the holes,

a familiar sucking sound: afternoons alone with Fred Rogers,
cheap puppets and cardigan sweaters, straining to pull orange juice
through a sippy cup. Fucked up on SweeTarts and acid in my sweetheart’s
day bed, climbing out of Burroughs’ One God Universe

backwards through an ethereal uterus. That familiar
sucking sound, metamorphic shift to something beautiful. Like this:
a young boy forces himself into a rabbit hole, emerges
on the other side as wildflower pollen and a thousand green lights


i will never stop being totally in love with this. please post more poetry, with haste.
i am a little in love with this as well. the title makes me feel insane.
So beautiful I cannot begin. But it reminds me of the way things get worse and worse, how this life disintigrates, it reminds me of all the pot we smoked, spinning in circles that led no where but "comfortably numb" on a random person's record player. But the end, reminds me of home. Though I've never been there, I've had a glimpse.
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