January

1 June 2014

got sick and ached and forgot who i was
was lost with my usual lunch haunts closed
quit drinking
discovered sarsaparilla
fish n chips on the pier when the cool change hit
desired bikes, awesome old racers
guilt
an essay on apollinaire, needs a pretentiousness edit
read an old poem at royal park reading
wasted time
made tortillas fer real w/ masa nixtamalera
long summer evenings indoors
floored by the early pound, have to quit poetry
yearned for provençal, derivative yearn
hugged sam then lost him
got his bike back though, but its no awesome racer
kurt vile on a pretty day
point addis oh my god its beautiful, but i was sad, and we three were beautiful, but i was
still sad, senseless sad
felt far off, empty, artless, feint, beat
too much sport
indifferent to scholarship
started drinking again
approaching deadlines
too much tv
talked about drugs, took none
idled in the office
filled bins
no plans but instant plans
pants that don’t fit
wondered about michael
drunken disagreements over the marxist legacy
coveted my neighbour’s racer
modus operandi: obsession
fixed leaking toilets
plumbed old poems
went to the tennis, 44 degrees
floored by federer, have to quit tennis
resolved to read less books, read too many books
tired, inordinately tired
flummoxed by time’s knack for putting things out of reach
loved, distantly
hurt, distantly
valis
heine’s deutschland
still weirded out by christmas gifts
the stretching out forward, onward, time’s drawl
told myself to slow down, became irritable
snarled at flags
shunned life
succumbed to car fantasies
en l’an de mon trentiesme aage
was otherwise safe, emptiness safe

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