Day 32: Apology

Apology

Finally I have realized that I am terrible
at so much, really,
but especially building things
from a box, the chords of wooden boards,
ziptied & untouched,
strewn throughout the house;

dancing is a weakness of mine,
so are bowling & darts,
any bar game really, any game
where you flirt between shots,
where you can balance a beer
in one hand;

this isn't something new,
but it is something new I've learned,
another gift given to someone else.

Day 31: Turing Test

Turing Test

I am possessed
by a phone booth
having failed so often
to write down
even the messages
on the pad by the phone
in this room, empty
except for the phone
& a table for the paper,
exactly how could I pass
for anyone but a man
alone and forgetful
in an empty room,
sleeping in the corner
& waiting
for the phone to ring.

Day 30: Comedian

Comedian 

Joanne practices on me first,
before she goes up there to face
the wall of lights and beyond
what must be people.
I could never stand there
& read the phone book
if even one person was witness
working through the two drink
minimum. One day she calls me up
to ask, I don't know why,
if a joke she's written works.
I have no idea if it works,
only that a joke should be a machine
made of words that goes off
in your head. A bomb is a kind
of machine, sure, or an engine,
& the joke is called thunder: you see,
two children live in a house alone
& every night they sit together
at the head of the dining room table,
drinking from the same cup.
They speak in low tones, a language
I don't understand. It is only years later
the younger brother wonders where
their parents went or why the kitchen
is always full. The funny part
comes next, but I've forgotten
and I'm not telling it right, not at all.

Day 29: Trying Cocaine

Trying Cocaine 

I was tempted, I admit it, to write,
Trying Drugs, instead; better be precise,
A reminds me; M reminds me, no one
calls it blow anymore, no one writes what

it's like, that last moment before you can
tell your parents you'd never, suddenly
you have & the room vibrates, is bound by
the vibration, how could it ever be

otherwise? In every moment, I feel
unchanged from every other moment, but
in truth every atom in my body
will leave me this year & it's a relief

that my body is a stranger, a thing
I can float above, its heart beat too fast.