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Thursday, April 17
la la la nevermind i changed it.
memorize this face.
once i saw this guy and he looked
like you. i dont know, it could have
been you were standing in washington
sq park in the city, so it makes enough
sense it was you smoking your cigarettes,
that is, if you smoke, standing company
with this elderly woman in skirts and
white hair, noone left her age, but happy
just to be alive and dancing in the park-
yeah dancing, and as you stood watching
her dance, smoking whitely in the dark,
casually she would take your sleeve
urging you perhaps to join her,
this is hereditary, come on!
your thin lips may have curled up like the
edges of lowercase cursive but your feet
remained still to the music, against the dark,
the brassy voices gliding against the city,
my face against the memory of yours
here in this park heart chamber of the world.
im gonna feel like a fuckin dork reading it though. oh well!
i want a saaaaaaaab.
Giorgie 11:53:00 PM
id like some advice on this poem... ive been working on it a while, but im really embarassed because of who the subject of the poem is (its someone specific, and so somewhat stalkerly) and im kind of afraid of ruining it if i do anything drastic. but im at the point of being open to any suggestions whatsoever.
[4/13/2003 5:12:12 PM | after the beep]
[11/13/2002 6:12:50 PM | after the beep]
sabatoge
once i saw this guy who looked like you.
i dont know, it could have been you
were standing in washington
sq park in the city, so it
makes enough sense it was you
smoking your cigarettes,
that is, if you smoke,
standing company with this elderly
woman in skirts and white hair. i swear i'll end
up like her in sixty years, escorted by some
younger unattainable concerned, noone left
my age, but happy just to be alive and
dancing in the park- yar, dancing. you stood
watching her dance
smoking whitely in the dark, casually
she would take your sleeve
urging you perhaps to join her,
this is hereditary
come on!
your thin lips may have curled
smile, but your feet remained still to the music, against
the dark, the brassy voices gliding against the city,
here in this park heart chamber of the world.
[edit]
Giorgie 11:35:00 PM
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