and tell me how. and which way is up

so. essay due tomorrow. another essay due tomorrow. term paper due on tuesday?

poetry reading tuesday night?

and of course a girl shows up. because this is the time girls always show up. and i spent all day moving furniture when i should have been writing. and i spent all day watching baseball when i should have been moving furniture. and now it is 9 pm, and i have caffiene like oil sludge in my veins, redline kind of brain. (and it goes on, stupid rhyme schemes, oh how i wish that it would rain)

and april showers bring something, meaningful employment? a book with a fake name on the cover? two tarnished candlesticks in a cardboard box with a forgotten relatives name on it. atleast you have a cracked smile, suppose it is better to reflect on broken things. i don’t want to discuss the effect of post-colonial emphasis on “the home country” on the minds of africans in franocophone west africa. i want to eat sugar cookies. i want to curl up on a couch with a girl who doesn’t smell like seven dollar vodka and watch seinfeld. i want to be at home where there are fireplaces. i want a fish tank, a small terrier, and to not worry so fucking much about everything. i want to stop taking a little pill when i wake up. i want all of my music to be about happier things. i want to not be wearing shoes and no socks right now. i want kate kreps to be less busy. i want to be a better son and brother. i want my glasses to not be held together with a trimmed piece of paperclip (i used nail clippers to do it, thought i was so fucking clever) i want the tigers to win a goddamn game. i want a better bullpen. i want baseball to mean less and letters to mean more. i want to start writing letters. i want to feel safe in the dark. i want banging on the door to trigger something less than an epic panic attack and subsequent profuse apologies. i want calm

(i want calm)