12.31.2016

older

older i get
less words i say
easier to pivot
walk the fuck away
or bare this heart
to you
which, dammit, makes me stay
push this cloud
and condensation
out the good gotdamn way
wake up, intuition
on dark days, i pray
pull the curtains
pray for certains
in this brand new day
'cause my mama sees me sad
that makes daddy mad
whole family thinks i'm a bitch
when cloud's my launching pad
i get it, Grandma
80 years, less words you had
young-you was all love, all tries
over time
love rots, and try goes bad
so, deuces, younger-me
stacked loves over tries
egad
cross-hatched believer!
life gone plaid!
older-me real to the realest real
show younger to the door
close that shit like Hodor
as Chance would have it
'we don't do the same drugs no more'

12.30.2016

arisen

five years
revelatory and embarrassing and endearing to re-read it all.

still
in this studio in brooklyn heights
teaching
actor

now
professor
ex-fiancée
profoundly clear that i am this
screenwriter
clearer
muddier

continuing this, incognito...?