Thoughts on THE ODD COUPLE...

or really around THE ODD COUPLE. At least one of the poems I plan to write today will be influenced by listening to Gnarls Barkley 2 all the way through something like maybe three times in the past few days. Also, been writing the same poem over and over again, something taking off from Gaiman's "The Day the Saucers Came," and I've written again here, and elsewhere in the 100. Maybe you can tell. I'm not sure. And with these words of caution I'll just add that I think I'm going to start outlining a novel here, in bits and pieces. Some titles will probably be easy enough (think today's'll be "Chapter One"), but you might recognize characters or something. Both Bukowski and Carver seem to have been medium-blending between prose and poetry and I think it'd be good to get ideas out in some sort of lyrical form before constructing a book.


"Please forgive me, but I'm not going to say I'm sorry"
So is it so very wrong of me
to remind you
that only tsunamis can change
the earth's orbit?

Or that nothing we do
is worth it,
because we never really
learn anything?

Even Plato knew
that you couldn't
gain knowledge
in the same way that you can't stare at the sun.

And you can hate me if you want
but I'm just playing Lennon
and trying to get you
to drop the cross

that I made for you
in that first year
after we'd gotten out of college
when I got your best friend pregnant

or at least I guess
we both think it was me
and when you said
that you wanted to stay together,

but I had to show remorse--
I don't think you should hold onto
the noose that I tied when I said,
"Girl, you know you are meaningless,

don't you?"
I won't apologize
but for explanation I'll add
that goddamnit we all are.


"Nothing Can Hurt Me"
I
I'm not going to lie
and say that you can
impact me in any way.

Because
if you simply
inflict mortal wounds

I dislike myself
enough
to probably enjoy them

and if you were
to sever
my brain

I'd thank you
since
I've been thinking too much these days.

Even if you were
to open up my head
and play with my neural mycelia

controlling that fungus
by way of irrigation
and a sun roof

and were able to take complete control of me
I'd be fine with it,
because I've been wanting someone else to take over for a little while.

II
I don't see a problem
with sporting
my nihilism
like a letterman's jacket

and you can call me
what you want
because really
I'm not taking any effort whatsoever to listen.


"My Epitaph"
Please
people
don't believe
a single word
I ever said,
for it was all lies
and worthless crap
that wasn't meant
to be studied.


"Chapter One"
In That House
was the band of the decade
and Sam didn't sign them
which meant that her dream job
was gone.

And she's watching
old romantic comedies
and thinking about all the men
she's been with
or not but wanted to.

Her high school reunion
is in three weeks
and she's getting drunk
every other night.
Oh,

what on earth
is she to do?
you might say
and she'd spit on you
because she doesn't take that pity shit.