July 2012
14 posts
People are only people when you are looking at them. When you stop paying attention, they become fenceposts and hedges and things that get in your way. But don’t look at them too hard, or else they become signs pointing to things that you can’t see. And you will be forced to ask of yourself, what do you point to? Or are you merely a parking meter, holding a place for something as of...
I Am Recently Considering
the extent to which I over-think things. Not just important things, all the things. There’s a narrative superimposed on all my moments, but they are not my moments.
Look at work. I go because I need money, that’s the narrative. I have to be there, so I am, I have to act a certain way or do certain things to continue staying there, so I do. That’s the narrative. And the...
“… you might think that, morally speaking, they could sink no lower. Alas,...”
– Jose Saramago
To The Crazed Man
in my neighborhood, wandering the streets and chanting “Suck on a d***!” in a Jamaican accent:
No thank you.
Our Kiss Is A Point On A Graph Somewhere
Our graceful dreams, on slender necks
Are merely lines that intersect
To form the love for which we grope
Through strange geometries of hope.
I Wish I Actually Said The Last Line
Me: How are you doing tonight?
Cashier At Jae's Indian Minimart: Oh, I am good. It was sunny, but in the morning it was cool. And, most important, I have a job. So I don't complain.
Me: You, sir, are better than most native-born Americans.
