i want to know you

i love speaking french and listening to albums in the sun.
what are your favorite things. what kind of teeth grow
on your back porch. i want to know everything.

when you were growing up did your grandmother heat
the furniture? mine did. there were always fires
lit under the couch. the cat wore a helmet.

i want to know things about you so that i can feel
that i know you and that there is a you.
i am against the idea of a decentralized self.

for example, when i was in haiti i discovered beach balls.
this is a clear memory. if i was holding the beach ball
then there is a me to hold the ball and to remember holding the ball.

see. you know what i am saying. i love your brown hair.
you feel like email to me. i could lay down inside your long
sentences. i am always waiting for more from you.

i like it when the sunlight refracts off your eyebrows.
your eyebrows are like dark flames lighting your forehead.
i want to know every fire you have ever lit

and every house you have ever haunted.
do you have the internet in your pinkie?
i heard this about you. every time i sit down

i feel the internet coming up my legs.
it is a sensational feeling. do you have feeling
in your legs? see, i want to know everything.

tell me if you feel your feet. tell me how much sadness
there is in your body and where it is located.
tell me if your hands ever spark at night.

i want to know everything about you.
what kinds of trees appear in your dreams
and what whale is beached in your room when you wake.


i listened to this song 8 times

Valentines Day - Palace Music

i am going to start posting songs that i listen to excessively. they will probably all be by will oldham. you are going to think i am boring and not cool. all of this will happen.


"where i am the sky/is not. away"

i read the latest issue of fence at a bookstore the other day and i really liked this poem by michael comstock. the title is "LOVE, YR EXILED SON" and i said to my friend, gah why do writers do that 'yr' thing. i don't get it. is it some kind of club? like oooo i'm so cool, i've read robert creeley, i'm going to spell things like him. and then i read it and realized it was actually referring to text message language, and also that the poem is awesome. and also that possibly i am not very educated because i still don't know why writers do that robert creeley thing.