there are many birds
to fly with
but the fish
we swim deeply with
should be cherished
in the schools
of our lives

Somebody I Used to Know

No, Thank You, John

by Christina Rossetti

I never said I loved you, John:
Why will you teaze me day by day,
And wax a weariness to think upon
With always "do" and "pray"?

You know I never loved you, John;
no fault of mine made me your toast:
Why will you haunt me with a face as wan
As shows an hour-old ghost?

I dare say Meg or Moll would take
Pity upon you, if you'd ask:
And pray don't remain single for my sake
Who can't perform that task.

I have no heart?--Perhaps I have not;
But then you're mad to take offence
That I don't give you what I have not got:
Use your own common sense.

Let bygones be bygones:
Don't call me false, who owed not to be true:
I'd rather answer "No" to fifty Johns
Than answer "Yes" to you.

Let's mar our pleasant days no more,
Song-birds of passage, days of youth:
Catch at today, forget the days before:
I'll wink at your untruth.

Let us strike hands as hearty friends;
No more, no less; and friendship's good:
Only don't keep in view ulterior ends,
And points not understood

In open treaty. Rise above
Quibbles and shuffling off and on:
Here's friendship for you if you like; but love,--
No, thank you, John.

new boyfriend?

I tend to reflect on my life i have lived. it was a pretty average life for the past 31 years, like any other man my age has. I spent the first 5 or so years of my life studying the arts; finger painting, macaroni pictures, light bright, the usual. By age 7, I was riding elephants competitively in South Africa and engaging in full-contact chess. I was nearly a fully developed man by the age of 8.

Philosophy has always been a passion of mine - I have spent long, lonely nights wondering why world hunger exists, yet vibrating shoes don't. I finished 2nd in the South American Hand Writing contest, took 3rd in the Turkish Nude Olympics, and ironically won 1st place in the competition to be on Lost and The Biggest Loser. P. Diddy has my number on speed dial. I beat Michael Jordan in a 1 on 1.

I once single-handedly commanded an entire fleet of fully trained and dangerously equipped carrier pigeons throughout Kentucky with limited visibility and caution. Unfortunately, I now have a phobia of pigeons. Using nothing but a paper clip, 2 AAA batteries, and a stale box of Corn Flakes, I once saved a child from certain drowning and personally nursed him back to health in under a fortnight. Bill Clinton named his pet rock after me. George W. Bush named his pet rock after Bill’s. I don’t believe in pet rocks.

On my days off, I invent new yoga positions and teach classical arm wrestling techniques to the blind. I watch Saturday Night Live on Sundays, Monday Night Football on Tuesdays, and on Wednesdays I order drinks off the Thursday menu at TGI Fridays. It’s always happy hour when I order. I strategically place Christmas Lights on Jewish People's houses during Kwanzaa. My motive is chaos, my aphrodisiac suspense, and my middle name is **ADVENTURE**. When I buy one I get two free.

This self description is in no way legally documented nor realistic in any way shape or form. Well, except for the part about the light bright. For some reason you ladies seem to bring that up, so just FYI, I am pretty awesome at light bright.

across the pond

I woke up today
with more self-love than usual

it was coming from my womb

I had been dreaming
of mutilation
scissors snipping off my nose
and other such things

after he and I finally decided
we were too precious not
to reproduce

With him gay,
we came up with a concoction
for how to do it
but people on the street
money-hungry,
figured us out
before we could do it

I woke up,
bathed,
and decided
maybe he would
want me to contact
him

still feeling the scissors' snips
I re-placed everything
decided
on what's settled
what's settled
across the pond

there is some sort of reflection
not to be seen
but if the fish
can feel
that swirl of love again
that was given from
so many boat rides
so many days spent
sunning

forget the hooks
the hooks of dangly worms
that seemed to come
from the best crocheted hands

people once thought steamboats
were earthquakes, too

i watched my nephew,
at 7, use mickey mouse
as his character
to get him through foreign lands
i wondered if, how, wii
would ever afford
such an expedition

my womb calls my name from
inside the
pearly gates
to rice
sticky in the morning
washed gently by hand
until the gluten
dusted away
shines not so brightly
as the pearls,
steamed, seasoned
makes his perfect
breakfast
that food, ranking
just behind strawberries

strawberries
meant the world to me
melted my grandma's skin
into welts

ann
has poison ivy
that she must first explain
at a family gathering
is not contagious
on her skin

i fell asleep with her
while watching
employee of the month
as entertaining as it was
watching them zip around
the showroom floor

there is something missing
when you keep wondering
what kind of employee you are
wake with scissors snips

yet the love must reawaken
even from across the pond
even if wii can't afford
the next years together
the craving of my womb
the craving of the kind of love
i (gave)

it is in the water
somewhere
to be danced with the rice,
the pearls,
the fish who still swim
and see hope
in the glimmer of light
above

let the birds sing
this morning
sniff the air,
sweet kyla,
it is a new day
for all the things
that will come
even as we keep
our own pearls
apart
for this string

btw, blt

let's
ketsup
soon.

like a mosquito
they promised to visit
a bunny clad bowl in hand

the bunnies were boppin
topsy turvy
until the scurvy and the mersa
ate all their flesh
have mercy

i've been blessed with a bladder
the gall of a ladder
so many books to scale

the fish taps cotton
on his buffalo shirt
pink skirts the background
a shirt of blue fish