living is the most intricate torture anyone could have designed for me
yes
i was so sad this saturday, sadder than i have been in a long time
it is so teeth jangling to never know
now that god is gone to roost
if you are sad because you are sadness
or if you have a terrible life

some wretched little hope lives in me
and it is wretched
always spinning out calculations of better-tude
fawning over good ideas
not letting me fall asleep

my wretched hope
i love you

---------(for the intellectuals)----------

in this light! i have given up realism (again again the same disavowal, each time with more feeling). i was in high school once (yes yes i know difficult to believe) i have read shaking-his-spear and i know all about this mirror up to nature, but of course if we read our sontag carefully she will tell us that the art is a thing in itself, that you must pass through, that you might hold, or sit in (ariana reines calls it a sieve) and i am heading towards a gentle wordlessness, perhaps i do not like myself in words, where i am too dramatic and too effacing and too harsh

i will take a video recording device out to the woods and bury some friends up to their waists where they will draw full circles with each others help