Thursday, December 10, 2009

On Break

Me at Starbucks, trying to write my paper on Twelfth Night.  Not being able to focus enough.  I know what I want to write on [The characters are stuck in their social positions; Only those with higher social status end up happy; Those with lower social status keep each other in their places by exploitation and indulgence], but the words, phrases, sentences sprint away as fast as they possibly can.

And I am left with these words.  Useless?
Everyone’s moving, talking,
Caffeine making its way through all of our blood streams;
Foreign languages echo,
Norton open on my lap,
Lines of Shakespeare on thin tissue like pages, annotated
With blue ink in my hand,
Last work of the quarter
Before complete relaxation can over take each moment
During which I’m awake.
That would be my brain,
And the frost which coated my car this morning, un-gloved
Hands freezing, numbing.
Purple and black plastic
Against the windshield of the car, frost coming off in sheets,
Making way for vision.
As in, that kid is really
Tall! I wonder if he plays basketball. Reminds me of when
SPU’s team came to
Distance from school
Seems immense, when my heart has been split up and sent
To various locations
Trying to force focus:
Once this paper’s finished, then the editing (joy!) can begin,
Discovery once more:
Too many distractions,
Taking the form of people, and thoughts of tiny planes flying
High above the Atlantic;


  1. i'm missing you and there's not a thing to do
    i'm blue, just blue, just blue.
    listening to this song by the weepies right now, it seemed perfect.

  2. what kind of name is weepies?
    Do you know what that reminds me of? That entirely too delicious british man from the holiday saying "I weep. That's right, I'm a total weeper."

    Your poem however reminds me how much I absolutely love you.