Saturday, June 24, 2017

Today's writing

“What I know,” he says, still holding my wrist, “Is that I’ve seen every side of you.”


When we first met I could’ve sworn the guy was blind, emotionally if not in any other way. I’d seen him around – on campus, at the cafĂ© where he worked blending up slow-acting caffeinated poison, in the parking lot where we first exchanged words. They weren’t nice words. He’d tapped my bumper and like that, the damage was done. Honda on Honda, CR-V versus Insight. The goody-goody always gets it in the end. 

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Enya, "Only Time"

Who can say where the road goes
Where the day flows, only time
And who can say if your love grows
As your heart chose, only time
Who can say why your heart sighs
As your love flies, only time
And who can say why your heart cries
When your love lies, only time
Who can say when the roads meet
That love might be in your heart
And who can say when the day sleeps
If the night keeps all your heart
Night keeps all your heart
Who can say if your love grows
As your heart chose
Only time
And who can say where the road goes
Where the day flows, only time
Who knows? Only time

Thursday, June 15, 2017

Happy Father's Day

It's coming up and I want to say happy Father's Day to Adam, the best and most natural father I know. Baz loves him, the dogs love him, and I love him as well.

We're all so lucky to have you, baby. Thank you for being you.

Sunday, June 11, 2017

Sunday morning listening

If I was your one and only friend
would you run to me
if somebody hurt you
even if that somebody was me?

- Prince

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Written to Joseph just now

BTW, I just saw a fucking exchange on Facebook that made me understand how necessary BEARDED LADY is to this world. A friend of mine had put a beard filter on her photo through Snapchat and the idiots went nuts. You can only imagine.



Lack of understanding that we are all freaks, therefore none of us is.


I’m here to kill you.

Sometimes I write poetry

When You're Small, and Mostly Asleep:

You feel rather than hear your parents move,
adult bodies big, cutting the quiet dark;
world a beloved muddle
mostly managed by others,
and you're smart enough
not to yet feel gratitude;
life a moon, incomprehensible,
shining like a nightlight
beside your bedroom door.