Archive for September, 2003

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Sonnet

Thursday, September 11th, 2003

Sonnet

Rain will fall on the Sapphires tonight,

Showering the mountains with dulcet drops;

Then sharing the moon’s course without its light

It will softly wet roads, trees, homes, and crops.

In the morning a calf will lap the dew

From the grass. While the rain falls, though, she sleeps.

Few will glimpse the moon — cold, high, dulled, tired, blue —

As countless crickets chirp and the sky weeps.

The clouds will shower upon all this dry land,

Earth from coast to coast suckling the sky’s breast.

Then they will pass on to wash clean the sea.

Once they have flown far enough to the west

You can see them and come to understand:

The clouds that cover you have rained on me.

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Update

Thursday, September 11th, 2003

I didn’t get the job at the Kaimin. Oh, well. Aaron and I went to the library, and they may have an opening there. We’ll see.

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Elevators

Wednesday, September 10th, 2003

Elevators

the elevators function as box-units:

self-contained, sturdy, safe.

up, and down, and up, and down, and up,

and down, and up, and down, and up again.

their only amusement is the occasional

breakdown, people trapped like Peanut M ‘n M’s.

are their only friends the repairmen who

come so infrequently?

what if your only friends were the doctors

who scrape your throat, make you cough,

and give you a little bottle of pills?

do they wish to escape? to break

the confines of their shafts? to move

horizontally instead of vertically?

we’ll never know —

those without voices rarely speak.

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Untitled

Monday, September 8th, 2003

a complex dance.
it may seem mechanical, but there are
a thousand variations:
tic-tac-toe for the couple.
So we go through the motions,
Follow everyone else
(or be pioneers), falling into
a rhythm, predicable, but no
less pleasurable. we rise
and fall, come into and
out of focus, the pace increasing,
blood pumping, hearts clouded
eyes closed breathing staca
tto quick faster rapid hard
er deeper all concentra
ting on not doing so
untilallthatmatters
iswhatliesbe
foreusbet
weenusa
rushof
sensa
tion
but
not
of
fe
e
l
i
n
g
u
n
t
i
l

— OHHHHH GOD —

Now for Christ’s sake
A vacant stare.
Our thirst is slake:
Do you still care?

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Deer on Campus

Friday, September 5th, 2003

Deer. On campus. That’s what we saw last night (Wednesday night) as we sat at a table outside the country store. They were running right across campus. One of ’em made it across Arthur to the University District, the others fled into the Jesse/Knowles parking lot.

Tony’s been up here the last few nights, helping Brooke with her computer. The thing is the digital equivalent of Linda Blair in the fine documentary The Exorcist.

Dad came through tonight (he was returning from Seattle) and we ate at the Pita Pit. Pretty good food. I finally got an answering machine! Bobby (he’s my roommate) thinks we should put a kick-ass greeting on there, and I wholeheartedly agree.

I might get a job editing copy at the Kaimin, which is the school’s paper. We’ll see. I’m really trying on the application!

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Woe unto me! My showers are a bit cold!

Wednesday, September 3rd, 2003

It’s time to bitch and gripe. Specifically, I’m going to bitch and gripe about the showers here in Jesse Hall. These showers, in case you haven’t seen them, are the type that have one knob that revolves around, going from hot to cold. Now, these are already hard to deal with because they always start off cold, blasting you. This is okay in the morning when one is still tired, but quickly becomes annoying.

The other gripe I have is that the temperature of the showers is always changing. I often have to crank the shower all the way counterclockwise to hot and then, only minutes later, it will become scalding. Is there no way for me to shower in peace?

Grrrrr…..

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Tear

Tuesday, September 2nd, 2003 

Tear

		blue		a frown	a bitter

sweet smile		once a tear once

 a torrent		my rain		it’s my own

a photo			a kiss			thunder		sky tears

smoke		spirits		a tear		LOUD MUSIC

			a smile			a touch			a deep

bear hug			cold cold nights in

					mouths 		a tear

bounding bouncing shaking (shaking) moving

		a silly song			a warm

night in bed			all dolled up

		a tear we wear		a tear

freed hair			we care

	a tear			a thousand miles

	a salty tear — it rhymes with

near (you’re not)		a salty tear

— it rhymes with where (are you?)

I am not

			a tear

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Update

Tuesday, September 2nd, 2003

What a day! I woke up at quarter till nine — too early — and went to Astronomy. It was okay, but I need to get another book for the course. I thought I had some free time, so I went grocery shopping at the Country Store. Here’s my list:

  • 2 cartons of milk
  • A can of Pringles (regular)
  • Easy Cheese
  • Some cereal
  • Some water
  • a box of Pop Tarts

The cereal pissed me off because it’s only available in single-serving thingies, not boxes.

Anyway, I got back to the room and checked my schedule, but I found out I had a class then! It seems that The Bear, which hadn’t been working before Astronomy, decided to single me, yes me, out and screw me over! So I missed my first Poetry Writing class. :-( Speaking of which, I wrote several today.

John and I tried to meet Brooke at the Food Zoo for lunch, but it was closed for the “Welcome to UM” mixer. Brooke didn’t show up, so we went to the UC food court. I had a veggie calzone. Verrrrrry good. John was happy because the seasoning was quite varied and he could salt his fries just the way he wanted.

I went to my room and Charlie from the Flying Men of Zimbabwe stopped by to get the CD I’d recorded of them back in December. We shot the breeze for a while, then I napped.

John, Aaron, Brooke and I went to the UC for the mixer. They had these icky taco-like beach things for dinner, which none of us particularly liked. And the dessert, which was usually top-notch, was Starburst! It was a disappointing culinary experience. After dinner we went to watch a little bit of Ocean’s Eleven, then watched a reggae band. It was okay, but reggae is not the best dancing music in the world. And I was kind of feeling down at this point, so I left. John wasn’t distraught, though, because he was teaching a chick — Tara (I remember her name when John couldn’t. He owes me big) — to swing dance.

I went to Knowles — Brooke’s room specifically — and met her roommate. From Brooke’s descriptions I was expecting a neurotic neat freak, but she was pretty nice. We had cheesecake (Aaron and John found their way to Brooke’s room) and then I returned here.

Oh, yeah. While Aaron, Brooke and I were going to Knowles to get my cheesecake there was disturbance that required the dreaded Public Safety to be called. Some kids got noise complaints but refused to comply. They were belligerent and it laters turns out drunk. We were coming back to Brooke’s room when two officers led one of the kids out in handcuffs. He was trashed and yelling ethnic slurs at one of the pseudo-cops, who happened to be black. That was a shitty way to end the day. I hope he has fun in detention sobering up.

That’s it. I’ve got Applied Literary Criticism tomorrow morning at 10:00, so I should get going to bed.

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Lost at Sea

Monday, September 1st, 2003

Lost at Sea

The wind whips up — its breath

warm — and I am whisked away.

Once in a while I drag

my legs to stall my movement,

but

I never kick to get myself anywhere.

A gull flies overhead and I shake

my fist (our hands are never so small

as when compared against flat horizons)

at him in a jealous fit. But he

flies on.

Storms come. The sea boils and I am

flung, a leaf wind torrent blown air.

Sometimes I dive as deep as I can go.

But my breath cannot hold for more

than a few seconds.

I see nothing anyway — it’s too dark.

Bermuda, France, China, Greenland:

I’ve been to each, but never

of my own volition.

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Update

Monday, September 1st, 2003

Well, I woke up at 11:00 today. Ate lunch, then John called and we went to Best Buy, and Super Wall-Mart™®©, and Target, and Rockin’ Rudies, and some kitchen sink store. All so he could buy two lousy Ethernet cables. We went shopping around to about fifty billion stores for the cheapest cables. And you know the sad part? The Book Store — which John assumed would have the highest degree of price-gouging — had the cheapest cables! The mind reels.

I managed to get some posters for my walls, though — a Beatles poster and a Van Gogh print of flowers for my bulletin board. My room is looking much homier now.

We ate in the Food Zoo and ran into A.J. from Billings. This is the guy who was kind enough to let John, Shawn and me stay at his house when we went to the Warped Tour last year. And we hadn’t even asked. Shawn got stoned and thought he’d written A.J. an e-mail, which makes no sense, since he would have been sober when the response came!

Later tonight Aaron, John and I went to Drew Wilson’s apartment. We watched I Spy, which was pretty cool. It’s like everybody knows everybody here, though. We keep bumping into people! Finally, we caught up with Brooke, which means she isn’t dead as we had feared.

So I’m gonna do some reading and hit the hay. I’m freakin’ tired. And my roomie’s asleep, so I can’t crank the tunes. Peace.

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