reREvealed

in the WHITE space
between
where we high like on the ceiling when not looking/reading a book or in a good thought light
the thoughts broken down
coloured in
remembered, outlined
structured for belief.

it is watching these things
unfold, become (OPTIONAL THOUGHT--more than) a
novel

metallic chirping the sound (of a typewriter) when you finish a line
the quickness sloppy on a PLASTIC keypad

looking through photo albums found on closet floors next to
crumpled up flannel

holes in the walls from thumbtacks, a white space of the HEART
the internal hidden life of the wall in odd places
what were they hanging?
what were they holding up that was so important & needed

TO BE SEEN?

return to New times.

systematically dis-
assembeling the news-
paper cut &
opened sections be-
tween the lines

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa fireside lounge, brown
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa couch, no fire, just
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa papers. tons of papers.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa torn papers with doodles
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa all over the edges.

while its new
unfolded, dented, creased,
packed from a plant
traveled across highways
typed in New York
city.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa a story with so much
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa narrative it smelled
laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa like fresh paint,
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa not ventilated,
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa a headRush.

already

headache and a
distinct lack of
protein return me
to a back to school
state of mind.

already procrastin-
ating a first day's
homework because due
dates are two weeks
from today.

and
already
i
miss
your
smile.

maybe

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa thick, soupy mist
floating above
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa sun burnt,
heated street
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa peeling,
high beams reflect
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa pale white lines
off of
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa circles under eyes
the cloud
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa 2 a.m. driving home
that cannot
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa stay awake or
fly.

SecondNight

the cardboard is packed
(not stacked or absorbing the sounds
of a television
downstairs.)

so this is what my
computer is like.

it took two hours
of looking at all labels
(no meat &
the cheapest goods)
to save twenty-four
dollars.

tomorrow maybe
a haircut.

tea for two to start
the day (waking up
to dick
who came to remove
the hot tub.)

green walls no longer
blue

i can go to bed with
the Gilmore girls
& a bed stuffed
with animals.

(comments included with
placement of TV.)

conversations
across
the room.
half in computer,
half spoken.

we can forge
a new family
in the space between.

For German friends (für Deutsche Freunde.)

hands aaaaaaaaaaa Hände
stretched aaaaaaa dehnten

over aaaaaaaaaaaa rauhe
rough aaaaaaaaaaa hölzerne

wooden aaaaaaa übermäßigtabelle
table aaaaaaaaa zwischen

between aaaaaa Abendessen
dinner aaaaaaa u.

& aaaaaaaaaa Nachtisch
dessert. aaaaaaa aus.

tea time

back broken by the lifting of lumber, jack could
do nothing but rest & wait for the return of po-
sterity through a slumbering regiment; sticky p-
otato chip hands, hot dogs eaten raw from the f-
reezer, falling asleep in his brown arm chair,
jack, white wrapped in long john coveralls, dri-
ed in the heat of the electronic hearth glowing
three’s company & draining battery lives till no
remote could change the arid airwaves—like sand
through an hourglass so passed the days of jack’
s life—just watching the same channel over & ov-
er & over again till it all was rerun & he could
predict the future & control time in thirty min-
ute intervals & in a symphony of board, hammer,
nail, jack was foreman once more molding from m-
emory a true HOME for the next generation, the
next lonely lovers to live in peace & comfort c-
oming together in a room of brady bunch sinceri-
ty, making the world a tv land once more.

telephone 8

telephone 7

telephone 6 and 6.5

i can only handle one friend who was
just broken up with (over the phone)
at a time. voice mail: "joe and i had
another fight and i'm just calling to
talk." in person, the cell phone in
the grass, lying flat on our backs
in the park: "bryan said he didn't want
to be with me." i wait for my phone
to beep, telling me ian returned my
text message, which i told myself i
wasn't going to send, but did anyway.
i can't call her back; i can't make her
feel better in the grass (and the mos-
quitos are coming out); he doesn't text
me back.

let's only talk in person from now
on, because it's too hard not to see
your face and i already forgot how you
smile. i don't know you well enough
to be comfortable text messaging you
when i want to know how you're doing
and be able to see it come from your voice
without the static on the line and the
roommate in the other room with the tv
on, but i don't want to have the 'where
is this going?' conversation, because
i'm trying really hard to see if this
new thing could work, but you live too
far away for me to be okay with not
hearing from you until i see you on
the weekend and we aren't clear with
anything. let's just talk in person (and
have the 'where is this going?' con-
versation).

telephone 5

the entire
electronic universe

strapped &
cased,

leatherbound &
belted,

to brown
khaki

pants that
never

ring.

telephone 4

telephone 3

pick up some milk & OJ
keep the mobile device & its antenna
pop tarts, waffles, & cranberry juice
2.5 centimeters (1 inch) from your body

do you need anything else?
nearly every electronic device is subject to
no, i just wanted to know
Radio Frequency (RF) energy interference from external sources
where you were & when
if inadequately shielded, designed, or otherwise
will you be coming home?
configured for RF energy compatibility

in a little while, I have to go to
the Specific Absorption Rate (SAR) limit for
the gas station & get fuel for the
mobile phones used by the public
lawnmower & then I will be on my way
is 1.6 Watts/Kg averaged over one gram of tissue

telephone 2

telephone 1

addicted to the telephone
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa tetherphone
i am always a phone call away
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa never away
just in case my car breaks
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa down

the sweat crackle of her voice
(it actually sounds different)
& i am ever seeking the
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa sound of sweetness
aaaaaaaaaa giddy cute talking to animals & babies voice

that is the closest thing to
a smile i can get--
the intonation the
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa reflection--
bounced off of clouds & filtered
through the cosmic microwave background

an invisible (time elapsed) embrace.

Hey, remember when I had an original thread?

hey, remember when…

i knew how to start a poem?
read a book?
not plan life around TV?

i took walks in the woods?
pictures of my shoes?
more than just journal entries?

i only wrote dripping prose without punctuation bent over computer lab keyboards before every procrastinated paper deadline outlining the final fall of self crashing into volcanoes of colour or robotic battle grounds?

i had fake glasses?
a desk where there wasn’t crayon writing on the wall or a civil war calendar next to me?
punctuality.

hey, remember when we would post?

hey, remember when...

i had fingernails?
a boyfriend?
three whole months of summer left?

i used to go to the pool?
to the beach?
skipped work?

i noticed the first fireflies?
the beginning of wineberry season?
but not that time was passing?

i knew how to ride a bike?
paint with watercolors?
end a poem?