a concocted conversation concerning not conversing

"It's all about kids like you and me, honey. We don't need answers, we need the lion's den. We don't need someone to talk to, we need someone to make NOISE with. Don't tell me, I don't want to know. I want to figure you out by the sound of your steps in the attic when I'm asleep in the basement, I want to know you by the way you breathe right before you pick up the phone. Every second could stretch out and be a little longer--this could last forever. But people have to talk and talk and talk and date and drink wine and figure it out and lay it all on the line. And you know, I always thought figuring sounded like something you should save for math...you know?"

"Ye--"

"But I'll study you, baby, like the night before a final, I just won't figure you out. I was never good at math and answers don't mean shit, ya know?"

"Yeah...I know."

"Perfect. Even then you were talking too much. Now hush."   

Walking

Walking out to my car at night

My heart picks up speed. I don't know why.

Love is divine, 

And parties are fine, but I 

Delight most in just walking.

Dull parking lot ground; it could just be

A routine route to engagements mundane

No special thing, no crown awaits

Or kiss, or promise, or fame--

Just moving my legs to the

Buzz of my brain.

It is not an adventure. But I misunderstand. 

And my teeth taste the air, and I think something grand

Must be happening.

And it is, 

because my feet

can feel diamonds in the soil,

And it is because my hair can feel 

colors in the air, and it is because the wind

Wraps the back of my neck like a lover's cool hand and says:

This second is reason

Enough for a party.

An aside

If I say I'm doing one a day for 70 days, I should probably not begin by writing 5 in one day. But sometimes these things can't be helped. And they really were all written yesterday. So it's cool, right?

Yes, right!

Okay, thanks Self, I knew you'd be cool about it.

Back to poemy thingies next entry.

When life gives you lemons, squirt the juice in your eye.

And of course they made a new language. 

To keep secrets is hard enough

In a slippery, familiar tongue

And impossible, when some

Require restraint as briskly from 

the holder.

But to not breathe is to die, so these

Are rather rattled out through wire,

in code, 

In jumbled lingo, a mess

In flowers adorning clumsy confession

And he says darlin',

Everyone is a liar.

Apology

At 6:16, I went outside

And apologized to the birds

For damning them, every perfect morning.

Sad songs all at once, they did nothing wrong, they were just trying

And I cried for being so mean.

Why the Argument for Religion Does Not Hold Water

I cup my hands to wash my face,

Then fold them in to pray

But when I talk to God, it seems

No dirt is washed away.

Human to Try

If you only suppose,

What do you propose

We do with the rest of our day?

I'd rather one know

We may stop or go;

At least I will know what to say.

What's silken in us

May chance yet to knot

Or just as well just slip away

It is human to try.

But try for too long and

Edges exposed tend to fray.