I’m a moocher, I mooch off my friends, and my parents, and my ex-girlfriend, and my ex-girlfriend’s friends…
Duderstadt Library, 1:00PM, 3/28/2025
those bygone years make fools of us all. the cherry blossoms trace the streamline of the river breeze and i wonder if the petals will reincarnate, if the koi will nibble at the pink and grow streaks of coral and rainbow. there is a songbird in the harbor and it sings of a better time, a distorted dimension, a eulogy, or perhaps a confession: who i would have become, and who would have taken my place. in another spring, the sky is falling on our heads–the impact will, for better or worse, make us none the wiser.
Plus it opens up a whole ‘nother half of the world.
Yeah, and it shows that you are capable to love so much.
7-Eleven, 9:00PM, 4/10/2025
the art of imitation: copy the sleight of the smile, the sway of the hips, the twitch of a thought that pulls the corner of the mouth upward. i would like to love you, i think, incandescently. how did Humphry Davy feel when he invented the arc lamp? when he watched a wire burn without flame, cleaving light from darkness? a black so deep, a pull so strong, a filament that shines with the weight of the world. a backdrop, illuminated: i am removed from my thoughts, scaffolded, sterilized. destiny is chaos and chaos is disorder and disorder is the fabric of the universe, the term for a man with nothing to lose.
I’m growing less tolerant of the people I work with, the people I live with, the people I want to be around.
North Quad, 5:00PM, 4/3/2025
the drip of the faucet, the stutter of the metronome. a parasite of the mind, i know that now–i see it in your face, a quiet strength, the concentration of someone trying to forget someone else. we must grow into death, an acquired object permanence: a child playing peekaboo and looking for a parent who is not there. a grandfather clock chimes from the ashes; winter weeps for the man buried below, and as persephone turns her cheek the snow dissolves without a trace.
