Dark Poetry Prose Poetry September 27, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

9:20am monday 9-27-04

the way we listen. steady fingers. empty heads. makes it difficult to dicern enemies from friends.

the way these bodies move through time unnoticed. 31 million tiny paces that all add up to one giant step.

how we are. like fountains. recycling the same feelings over and over again. taking it in through oneway valves and constantly spitting it right back out.

after this something else i guess. like everything is. after us someone else. whomever's next. throw your pennies into the water and see if they get spent.

09-27-04 monday 9:26pm

i remember when people were more than anecdotes and poems. i miss that time of life when it was still about the moment you're living in instead of what you're going to take away from it after it's ended.

life used to be about beginnings. and futures to come. now it's about dealing with ends. and there's way more past than there is future for us.

you can shift inside your skin. move the wrinkles around to different locations. but it's difficult to remove it. you can change how you appear to them, but you can't fool your own reflection.

you can collect your friends like picking flowers from a garden. but once you've picked them they're already dead. it's just a matter of time until you see the effects.

you have to leave them where they are. and come to them.

10:38pm monday 9-27-04

so how do i know. how do i make that transition. how do i cross that border into platonic without a visa. am i to be a visitor. a resdient alien. or shall i apply for citizenship. i've never belonged anywhere, so i don't know why this would be any different.

thanks for asking, but you're too late. i could've been long dead and all you'd find is the empty chair we used to sit in. i could've been long gone in the time you took to ask me how i've been.

i don't need to write, but i will choose it. just as i've chosen all of my friends. i don't need any of it, but there's things i want. there's things this life requests that i'm compelled to attempt. even if i fail, well at least i made the effort. even if i come away with less than i started, at least i took that risk. it's all right to lose so long as you made the effort. it's all right to end up with nothing so long as you're content with how you placed your bets.

you ought to know i never expected to come away with anything more than i have. just the experience. i've always known the only way for me to win is to be satisfied with my losses. and you knew that as well. you used it to your best advantage.