12.26.2001
i have rain but not you
i write in my phone, and i don't send, thinking love
smarmy (what then italics? i know), but proud of just
how japanese the act is, the heian paradigm played by
way a sending poems to objects a longing a long way
away hence too far for play, the micro|nano by way of it
being by way of a mobile phone message, such being a
beautiful thing rendered less beautiful relative to
the constant|reflexive juxtaposition that is the
receiving end.
this cell phone poetry forever ago, i dunno, now nothing.
你在干嘛 and
你在哪里 book-ended a three day fast
some when past and other things else off.
she is a beautiful girl. she is. she has cigarette burns on her arms and
her chest and a voice like steel wool,
cottonwool,
what toll else smoke took.
mascara makes an event horizon. timespace she does stop.
and i cope, yo.
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