a sense of humor in brooklyn

I enjoyed it.
The look on your face was priceless-
Mouth opened, gibberish;
Embarrassed.

You look to your right, to your left-
Wondering whos watching,
What eyes are turning;
You always have been so; self; consumed.

Like that time we went shopping,
You didn’t think I noticed but
When you were trying on that black shirt,
Brushing your hair back, and admiring yourself in the mirror,
I knew you were a little bitch.

I fucked you anyway,
Whoops.

Frédéric Chopin Nocturne in C# Minor

Transcribed by Nathan Milstein:



i have a certain affinity for the strings.
take me to a live performance, anyone... please?
i would love you forever.

The Wild Iris

At the end of my suffering
there was a door.

Hear me out: that which you call death
I remember.

Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.
Then nothing. The weak sun
flickered over the dry surface.

It is terrible to survive
as consciousness
buried in the dark earth.

Then it was over: that which you fear, being
a soul and unable
to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth
bending a little. And what I took to be
birds darting in low shrubs.

You who do not remember
passage from the other world
I tell you I could speak again: whatever
returns from oblivion returns
to find a voice:

from the center of my life came
a great fountain, deep blue
shadows on azure sea water.

-- Louise Glück


i fucking love this poem, especially the last two stanzas. it holds a special place in my heart.

(thousands of them)

The tension breaks us off.
I hear you breathing,
Heavily down my neck and I wonder how I’ll make it out,
I wonder where the nearest escape route is.

I crawl out of bed while you are sound and snoring,
I wrap the towel around my naked body and tip toe to the bathroom.
Dirt covers the crevacies of the sink and the walls-
And I am smothered in the basement room of an apartment in the greatest city in the world, and there seems to be no room left in your a queen sized bed.

I drift in and out of consciousness;
When I awake, its panicked and claustrophobic
I draw close to your body in spite of the distance;
I'm not quite sure if you feel it or not but I think it is growing.

You press your face against my cheek,
My make up smears with your persperation
And he thrusts deeper inside of me.

How many brothers and sisters do you have?
Whats your fathers name?

I can hear you when I lay in your arms on the leather couch.
There are no barriers when it comes to energy,
And in our silent voices, we are screaming.

I knew a man,
Limp and numb and barely awake.
I followed him all the way home.

What I would do for just a little bit of water-
A slice of reciprocation.

Where’s the grass around here?
I haven’t seen the sunshine in days.

"Never trust appearances"

"You know how the bud of a flower looks? Already attractive, special, and unique yet still barely hinting at the splendor and magnificence to come. Oblivious itself of how its presence will add to the world. That’s what you remind me of."

the bookstore

I've spent almost every free hour in the past three days at Barnes & Noble and I can't get enough. I want to sleep there and sniff the pages.

Blueprints

I don’t want to lose your scent.
The faucets running but im tired of washing , tired of waiting
and my issues on letting go have become more habitual than anything else.

your blue room,
your blue sheets
your blue heart is pumping but there is no oxygen,
no life,
no red.

you brush my hair behind my face and kiss the side of my cheek-
and you tell me you’re not pretending but,
standing at the faucet I feel otherwise inclined.

time to shower,
time to move on.

I play Chopin for you-
Nocturne in C Sharp Minor;
I melted into a formless being-
I thought I felt our energies;
bright yellows, a hue of orange,
a sunset.

when we fell asleep I matched your breath.
wrapping charges,
falling into you-
I had (no body.)

I linger to catch your scent-
I choose to remember all lovers this way.
In the distant future I will find myself walking along, and something will remind me of you-
It will catch me off guard and creep in from my feet to my fingertips and I will feel you all over again and the bed sheets will only be a memory and
I will know I will never see you again;
It will cut through me with razor sharp fangs and I will regret never knowing
You.

The contamination spreads and I feel more insecure than ever-
My body polluted with sheet music filled with deception and a man that was never worth my time or my music but-
I feel compelled to tell him that when the violin came to its crescendo,
I thought I knew You,
and I loved you for a fleeting moment-

he only held me close-
he holds all his women that way
I was nothing more than just one of them.