"You just make me a happy person."

is a good thing to hear.

Things you buy that aren't things

I'm looking at a belt I bought on a pair of shorts in China Town, and in the end I don't think I really wanted them, but the woman was so sweet. And when I was trying them on she told my mom, "You have two older boys? Boy, boy, girl. That's good luck!" and I always think about that & I'm remembering that now. And I'm just thinking I probably would have paid her 12 bucks to feel like we were lucky and worry a little less. This happens a lot. One night me & lexi were staying out really late, doing what? I don't remember but we had some of the greatest conversations, walking home, sitting on the steps of the whiskey bar, sneaking into school to talk out of windows, and I was sure that it would be more fun if I was half sitting in mine, her talking to my dangling legs-- but it wasn't and then my pelvis hurt. The bartender called us a cab and hated us for drinking lavender tea and we sat, now on the steps talking about everything, took the cab to our houses, but it was a lot more than a ride, because we talked about about life and work and fear and family and even death. We got life lessons from that cab driver, sometimes you do.

Koch

It's very much a Kenneth Koch kind of day.

Listened to him in the morning (again) from the the listening booth,

I just really love listening to poetry...

I don't remember who or what exactly, it was something like
"Poetry is meant to live on the breath, to be read and heard."

No sleep

It's not just the Beatles but that's all I'm showing you I suppose

Making it a point to creep myself out tonight. not on purpose of course, but God, am I doing a good fucking job.
I defy anyone to watch this video and sleep. Like a fucking brilliant commenter said,
"Feel like i just survived an Exorcism"




--update about an hour later delving farther into the nightmare abyss.

....god damn it. I really just feel like crawling into fetal and crying right about now. 

I just wish

wish I had a giant climbable book case.

I'm going to make that happen now.
My own personal, intellectual mountain to climb.
No hand chalk needed. No Cliff bars, but maybe a snack afterwords. 

Definitely.

Years From Now When You Are Weary

by Julia Kasdorf

and worn out, wondering how you'll pay
a bill or make the rent or meet a deadline

set by some thoughtless boss—and kid,
such days will come—remember yourself

at five: hair light from the sun or just from
being young, new lunchbox pasted

with butterflies, how you hung your backpack
on a hook, then wouldn't let me take your picture

on the first day of school, sending me
out of that classroom, to the car, to my job

where a pair of bats flapped in the hallway.
Bats may be just bats, but one darted

into my office, quick as the boxer's head
that bobs and weaves and never gets hit.

It landed and hung from the drapes, upside
down, as you hung in my body for a while.

Bats are not the only flying mammals.
That afternoon in line for the bus, you cried,

so tired you thought you'd fall asleep
and miss your stop. Years from now, child,

in some helpless dusk, remember that fatigue
but how you made it home to me anyway

in the care of a kind farmer—bus driver.
Recall that once I arrived late, your bus

gone, and when I found you, carefully seated
by a coffeepot in a corner of a dim garage

at the school bus lot, you just said, Let's go,
Mama. Don't tell anyone about this. 

There will come a time

There will come a time that you can no longer dance. So,

you should. Because watching this makes you smile, and it's because

dancing is so much childish exuberance and innocence and pure joy.

Because in that moment, nothing else matters. So if you can,

you should dance. &if you can, you should try to 

dance with someone else.

Love and be loved. Dance and be danced with. Live and be lived with.