a jolly leap from f to m.

i love the sound of the rain. it hits my porch.
i call it my porch. but really. it is the fire escape so conveniently sitting outside my window. placed just right so.
i think this weekend was perfect in a strange sort of way. friday was spent remembering what it is to be human and just. stop. for a minute or two. i fell hard to the pillow that night, wahee. and saturday, oh saturday. twas a grande day turned a grande day turned a drunk day. and then. it was sunday. sunday was today. though monday is today, really. but it was good. it was hard at first. to remember my name. but once that came, it was smooth sailing with the maccarthys from day to night. and now that its monday, i no longer have words for the weekend.

goodnight and goodnight.

and so it is (for those who know it is)

you have to give in to it.
sometimes.

see the world through painted walls... a mirror backing on your
room. when one is brushing, others hear. its weird. its nice. its
where i was. its little things you notice now. seemed so normal.

you set it up your certain way. to make sure each good space is used.
its small. its great. seems so normal. you dont know how or why but
those little things have gotten you.
they creek.
they moan.
they sigh a tone of age but wisdom.
we found it in that bottle. so hidden.

youve known each step. each piece a place. or two. or three.
basement there.
telephone here.
salt shakers up. and oven mitts down.
fish are here. hot sauce there. random sign? one will appear.

up up. downs down. so it says, upon the ground.

a one step closet above the stairs.
turned up and down.
a modest stand now faced with chairs.

...born in. forever. sad. its so...


it seems a place that calls me home.

ill do the same and call it home too.