the semen smell of bisquick.

in the limbo state. in the time of year i would usually be concerned with settling down. but now i'm leaving. it is with this midset mindset that i pursue the months, forgetting the past (which can be forgotten) and forgetting the future (which cannot be forgotten). only present, only presence of mind, only awareness of being a bum feelings. (all of this, of course, being impossible.) but to attain as close i can to the preconceived idea i have of spontaneity. an anomalous time.

what are you doing tonight?

-i dunno. playing with myself?

you can't say that to me. you're supposed to say you're gonna fuck a girl.

-oh yeah, totally, i'm gonna fuck like three girls.

all right, have fun playing with yrself.

haiku called
i was scared:

a telephone call
from istanbul is all i
need to be happy

haiku called
memory:

this, that, the other
i remember each other
a picture of us

poem called
when i was listening to blink 182:

do you remember when you learnt the meaning of the word "commiserating?"
no?
because i do.
i'm sorry; that was a leading question.