I never get tired of this picture. Each feature a little lost and isolated on that expansive face. She has a halo and a birthday hat; melancholy as a saint, yet unmoved as a child. Not exactly the best motif for me, but I feel peaceful when I look at it. My life is…flabby right now. I’m trying to work with the flab, through the flab, and the are results a little odd. Oh, well.
Every time you say it aloud
your debts fly through you clean
backwards, and you have a hole
in the unmistakable shape
of what you did.
Mine is shaped like a lump,
I don’t know what it is
I didn’t feel it pass through me
I’m gonna say it again
Mine is shaped like the
expensive bathrobe
I got for christmas
after I specifically told my mom
I did not want it.
It is not shaped like yoga lessons,
or babies with earrings
or the appalachian trail
but it will be one day.
Damn. Now I’m crying cause my head is bobbing in this god damn sea. And every time I come up for air I catch eyes with real humans. It happens just when I am afaid that nothing will save us.
I feel as if we were in a similar place lately. (I’m writing this as we are video chatting). Could we have a retreat? We could hire a crew to film us in the woods. And it would be pretty.