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Oh, hey.  
05:39pm 19/05/2007
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Filling Vacancies  
10:42pm 12/03/2007
Speaking your name
through parted lips comes
like whispering bodies in the breeze.
In your absence I feel you
in the spiny veins of my eyelids
in the calluses of my heel.
We communicate in white noise
transcribing our transgressions
in forceful staccato breaths.
I’m writing you a letter with clove smoke
and air, exhaling with urgency
from my lungs to yours.
I carve faith into my tongue at night
with a broken bottle cleansed by a flame.
I watch the pill bug on the cooling stone
hearth for some sign of how to react.
The posies’ stems are flaccid
but the narrow cobalt vase
sustains the illusion of strength.
The air we breathe is too important
to be so little of us.
I’m sewing wordy mantras
into the wound in my side trying
like hell to keep myself together.
My pupils swell to take in these final
flecks of calming light. I am, at last,
plucking lashes from my eyes
and blowing them out to sea.
When I miss you most I throw
my jar of ants out the window
and force gravity to prove itself once more.
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09:04pm 04/12/2006
The slow digression of thought
leads always back to you.
The dog being walked by the man with
the cane is the hide-and-seek of the
sun and moon is the glowing embers
of the fireplace is a woman and a stark
white swan is the discourse of God and angels.

I am telling you this because there is
a certain selfish need for it.
When you walk through a town
I want you to see me
in the ends of spent cigarettes,
bowls of oatmeal whose steam
touches the ceiling before disappearing,
children with too-short haircuts,
the slamming of a leather cup of dice on a sticky bar top,
freshly-engraved epitaphs of devotion.

I want you to see me in sounds, hear me in smells,
taste me in pleasures that stop your heart for a moment too long.
I want the senses to confuse perceptions.
Sky and land may never touch, but the horizon
should taste heavy to you, and the clouds should be
suggestions of a thing too enormous to imagine.
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do you believe that everything happens the only way it can?  
12:19am 02/09/2005
what's beyond logic happens beneath will;
nor can these moments be translated:i say
that even after April
by God there is no excuse for May
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this is the way we save our house  
09:14pm 21/06/2005
so after eating some cheez its (which i actually find quite gross) i was pretty parched. thirsty, i ventured into the kitchen where the toaster oven was on fire.


yeah, no one has used it in at least a day, but it apparently felt neglected and decided it needed more flames. so i moved my mother's purse away from the toaster and began to open it... when it occurred to me that oxygen tends to do bad things for fires. or at least for ending unwanted fires. so instead i unplugged the thing. and despite yelling at the top of my lungs for my mom to come downstairs, she apparently didn't hear me.

this reminds me of the time i plugged a heater into my room and sparks came out and nearly burned down my bedroom. funny how that same heater is still operating completely well in the bathroom. apparently it's just not a bedroom heater...

i guess i'm good at stopping fires. if only there was some way i could turn it into a career...
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what would i do without my family?  
01:02pm 08/05/2005
it's really not mother's day unless your dad blames your cancerous aunt's shaking hand on the dt's.
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hey, check this out!  
10:08pm 29/03/2005
for those of you not up to date on really cool milwaukee news:

MILWAUKEE -- Jurors are expected to start deliberating Monday in the trial of 17 white police officers who say they were not promoted because of their race.

The men are asking for $300,000 each because former Milwaukee Police Chief Art Jones (pictured, right) didn't promote them from lieutenant to captain positions. They said he promoted less-qualified women and minorities.

So far, the three-week-old federal trial has heard the plaintiffs testify about the shortcomings of colleagues who now outrank them.

The lawsuit names Jones, the city and the fire and police commission.

If the jury sides with the plaintiffs, a separate trial would be set to decide damages.

that's from http://www.themilwaukeechannel.com/news/4321131/detail.html for those that care.

this is, in a word, amazing. "i'm a white male in the us. life is hard. i'm suing." the thing this article doesn't say (that i heard on the news) is that not only are each of the 17 men seeking $300,000, but they all want to be promoted to captain. all of them. now. and the best part is, it got through the first stage of court shit. justice is served. not to say i'm a supporter of jones, but come on guys. whew.
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public entry for colin's sake cuz i know he'll read it eventually  
12:42am 29/03/2005
hey colin.

you know scott.

and i know scott.

but scott didn't hit on me, he hit on you.

haha. colin.
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i'm fed up with school so i'm educating myself  
10:48pm 22/02/2005
did you know that the name 'peter' is related to petroleum?

it can be traced back to petros (homeric greek) a stone.

petroleum is a contraction of petrae and oleum... rock-oil.

none of this matters, but still it amuses me.
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01:55am 22/02/2005
blah. so lazy. haven't read stats yet. still doing better than almost everyone in the class. haven't read psychopathology yet. exam in a week. meh.

paulette and i went to ihop again on saturday. we had a fun ass time. there were real cops there... not rent-a-cops. god bless that neighborhood. she was like "oh wow cat. that's a real cop. he's got a gun. i thought he was just a flashlight cop!" and we promised out waiter we'd be back. long story, but he has to think of something to some brilliantly witty comment i made.

listening to a lot of music again. trying to stay awake. it doesn't go well.


kefka i don't think i have your number right. still. so call me sometime and leave a message and then i can just save it.


i'm supposed to be writing an essay on either camus or kafka right now. pass.

today in my intro to english studies class andrew was like "does anyone know who ezra pound is?" and i nearly died. luckily a few kids had a clue. and he asked what school he founded and there was a big long silence so i looked up from my scribblings and said "imagist" because i'm used to just blurting out answers in honors classes. and he just stared at me. and blinked. because i never talk in that class or... stay awake. and he was like "uhh.. umm... yes. very good. imagist." and wrote it on the board. sad.

i keep reading these poems in the coursepacket and i know i've read at least half of them. and i'm pretty sure a lot were from stathas, though i don't really recall doing poetry in her class. but i honestly think it was her. langston hughes and shakespeare and furlenghetti and shit.

the success of a cynic...

it keeps snowwwwwwwing right when everything is nearly melted.

i'm not looking forward to training on wednesday.

i deposited money on sunday and i definitely have the $5000 for my down payment, but i'm still not sure if i should save that money for grad school instead. i mean, i love the idea of my own shiny new electric blue car but... rar. i don't want to be in assloads of debt. so maybe i should wait the year and a half or whatever till i'm done with undergrad and buy myself a graduation present.

i should reallllly be writing this essay.

i'm really excited about the words chaff and went. it's dorky as hell, but ask me why and i'll explain it to you sometime.
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