october 8

so i took two moments this morning and sat on a slab of granite, watching the world go by and the whisps of lower clouds on a background of gray overcast. samira came by and mentioned that i looked like a part of the scenery, which was how i felt, which is a good thing.

it started to drizzle.
i knew if i waited long enough the rain would come.

and then i thought about that thought (meta-thought? ahhh!!) and thought about poetry, and my own poetic tendencies. see i told someone the other day that i'm a romantic, and that's how i look at the world, even if it's blatantly off most of the time.

when it comes to poetry it's all mostly fiction, things we make up to make a moment seem more pristine, perfect, a pure view of an idea or emotion, what else is poetry for than to express complexity in a different way? with hints and subtlety, or else with rhythm and beauty that creates something greater and the sum of its parts.

emergent truth

ya, i've got an exam today.

but i'm gonna nap this afternoon.

and i leave tommorow for italy. crazy...

10.04 | october | 10.17