so much shit to sift shallow alongside your smiling eyes
i might see you but i hope i don't
twenty five minutes
i missed one in there
the noise reduction can help my shaky hand
and my untrained eye
but can't do much for the
lack that escapes me
these days
i don't know how much of me is left in you
but it seems like more than it began
i don't know if i want it there anymore
cuz i think i spoke without thought
when i said i wanted you
twenty four minutes
left leg shakes
below right leg hot and cold
soon it will sizzle as it does so often
since i picked up this habit
blood flow sorrows and my cells
i think are mad at me
they keep getting stuck in my elbow
and my ankle
my father has this problem but
he's never done anything to deserve it
except age
twenty three minutes
inbox filled with thoughts from him
about her
and her sex
three months would have brought me a smile
now it brings me a laugh though
soaked in suck
for contempt and content(ion)
i ignored it but it came back
twenty two minutes
you sit over there
across there and i sit here
but we talk
a lot
and my left pocket just vibrated
and my ears just beeped
i wonder who it is
probably her
searching flights
or her
telling me how i've
let her down
(again)
twenty one minutes
(break)
why is that hotdogs only taste taste-y to me
when soaked in processed cheese noodles?
twenty minutes
my right leg tingles now
hot and cold
like the scorching cold of that
liquid
smoke that filled the room
that day
twenty minutes (again)
thoughts over and i type
too fast for my brain
watching the clock pass---
nineteen minutes
he answers his phone so
matter-of-fact-ly
this is me and what the fuck do you want?
(break)
ha. at least he is who he is
and thats more
than i can say
about me
(or you,
definitely).
eighteen minutes
something is moving inside of me
and i'm too afraid to know what it is
i need a moment.
and a date.
and someone to force
me into that room.
will you?
seventeen minutes
and he's talking to me now
two He's from the Pod, actually
talks of flatulence and wet dicks
dinner at mom's and
a j or two for the road
sixteen minutes
he has nothing to say
right now he said
i told him i don't either
but i say it anyway
though i really wish sometimes
i wouldn't
fifteen minutes
why do the minutes seem to pass faster
now
closer to the top
hands inching closer to be on top
of each other
and why do i even feel
like i need to watch it
because
fourteen minutes
i hate time
insanity of psychological time
"i am happiest" when
"i don't notice time passing."
thirteen minutes
stuart says
'right the fuck off'
adam says
"more abstract thoughts and moods"
than thought
i get it
but like i said
i do it anyway
(though i really wish i wouldn't)
twelve minutes
one moment
incredible, great
whats that mean anyway?
none of it made any sense to me
i hope it made some to you
maybe you could show me
how
eleven minutes
i wonder what's for dinner?
ten minutes
i wonder if he'll come to dinner
i wonder if he'll come tonight
i wonder if i'll come tonight
nine minutes
here comes the white shirt with the round hole
he once wore a pair of shorts
for three days with the same stain
no one said a word
but when i finally did
he scolded me for not telling him sooner
i thought you knew
i'm in the business of wearing
stained clothes
for too long
eight minutes
everyone packs up
i am hacking up
he finally learned how to burp
seven minutes
he once told me
he loves me and though
things didn't work out with his
like-blood
he bleeds for me
like i am in his
still
six minutes
i saw him spoke just there
and it was cute
if he liked my kind
i would hope he'd like me
though
maybe i just need a friend
five minutes
seconds
half of everyone is gone
now
four minutes
he said goodbye
and hello
to her
i am sure
three minutes
lights off
i am
contemplating
leaving
he peers around the corner
something about tabloids
headphones in a pouch and
his thick rims wrapped in plaid
two minutes
on the nose
i will have a cold tomorrow
not sure who planted the seat
but its been awhile
since i've had
a good sick
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