post two

i sat in a room with people who are far better at reading that me. my words stumbled over the table cloth and knocked over the punch bowl. so i tried to sop it up with my floral summer dress- to no avail. they sat in wet seats and wet pants, but spoke of Hemmingway just the same. a glare my way made me check behind my shoulder for monsters but i guess it was my complexion they were staring at. should have lathered on the concealer today. i don't have a big enough mirror to see what i'm doing, let alone enough light. some of the bulbs have shattered. a glass rainfall came beaming down. it was beautiful, for a second, when the glass shreds caught the light of the other working bulbs. like a shimmering rainfall over my head. the hurt arrived when they stopped falling slow-mo and zipped into my skull. maybe that's what they are looking at.

be my friend, valentine, heart-shaped wonder and i will try and find a chunk of time for you in my time pie chart. certainly hope we can, cause currently my pie chart shows 95% me-time. 5% cat-time. good. i'm thinking of bumping up cat-time because she's starting to smile at me. i could just personify everything in my life, then my pie chart would be full. tea-time: 15%.we do talk sometimes. cracker-time: another 5%. it offers me nourishment and a crunch and crunchy things basically talk indicating conversation.

nice to dream, i suppose. dream of ciggarettes on balcony's and dances with ball gowns and star studded evenings with martini's in hand, clinking glasses echoing in the night. ah, that's good. good to dream about brick walls exposed to hardwood floors and slippery socks to ensure good slidy time. good slide-time: 5%. nice to dream of words dancing off the page and your arm slowly floating off the page gradually lifting your elbow, shoulder, left side, middle sector, belly, bum, right side up to the ceiling still writing in mid air, writing on mid air, it floats away too fast. maintain a pace and you'll float with it. air-time: 5%.

thanks for the calligraphy tip, she whispered to the sky. sometimes the sky is my friend and we dream together of blankets that feel like fur and solf plush pillows made of velvet to catch our faces from sky's height. sky is fat so she dreams about being skinny and i always say we can run more but her joints hurt from stretching out for miles and miles. she said saskatchewan, especially, hurts her...she's really got to reach there. they depend on her clouds to be as slim and long as possible, drawing out for days.