home view

the view

it's back i'm back here again and there is no view but the wall at my computer but the sun is over my shoulder on my geraniums bending towards the window all green and pink and red flowers and the city this little part goes on outside but it is calm somehow cause the trees and the gardens mellow it all out and i am not getting on the subway to go back again for awhile cause i'll break everything and i feel all broken up without my green and yellow and orange and pink pillowcases and without the sun to shine on me when i wake up this sun not that one that shines over there over the runs in my pantyhose and the shattered glasses

there young women walk with no teeth and cigarettes

stop light

and she's waiting at the stop light the intersection white van doing a u-turn dirty water all up the sides can hear the men laughing in the morning hung over morning with their black coffee milk and cream and sugar and fake sugar the fat shiny on the top it's always coffee time in these neighborhoods cause they stay open late and its okay to bring your own mug and sit on the benches in the front with a smoke and a dream of meeting her at the stop light wearing those black leather pants, not leather but tight and shiny her hair all in her face and her lips really red and pouty cause you'd want them to leave a mark leave a mark on you so they'd ask what gives? who's the lady who's the broad who's the bitch who's the whore that stops here and marks you all up probably even scratches you with her nails when the moon's out and the open sign all lit up in the night so you can see her face even in the dark she's got a face even in the dark

and this is sweetpea overlooking the city

Revolution

is what comes out of the sun shining and keeping you awake and that is when things happen, when you happen and take over. take over the laundry, the dishes, the toothpaste spit in the sink and transform it into dresses that fit again.

i'm like this

i just finished eating yogourt and trying to finish one of the last papers but it is hard to make words come when your fingers and your head are somewhere else.

just thinking about how saturday i wasn't alone and now i am with spring in the air and my sick plants all better and ready to bloom cause the sun comes in so bright through my windows. just thinking how this is all going to change and end and start again somewhere else or just continue in some haphazard fashion that will make sense only when i retrace my footsteps. i want this to be over to have handed in this paper and taught that class and be all evaluated but then i have no idea what will come next and if the monotony isn't in what is now but in what will come.

i'm tired and i want to sleep and not have to set my alarm but allow myself to wake up naturally when i have to pee or when mona wants to wash my face but it is not to be cause there is this paper that right now makes no sense but must by 9am.