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She is afraid that the woman next to her is listening
so she
closes her mouth
moves backward
races for the love seat and
sinks into it.

This party is going nowhere
like the bus rides to Nevada
or submarines.

Forget being abstract.

She listens to the humming around her-
the music she wishes she knew before it played.

Sharing is caring:
that is all she has to say and it isn't enough.

So she, becomes one with the love seat
sinks into it
clutches the velvet cushion in her hands and
listens to the songs she'll never hear of.

This humming is useless.

I remember awkward pauses the most and cold tea I couldn't drink while hot.

It was the information age
but, instead of being informed
I put holes in walls
then plastered them.

I read history books like newspapers and whispered current events in your ear.
My yesterday's are closer than your today's-
(nothing's happening.)

I'll sleep with the television on
and listen to the footsteps above us
or the fountains that sound like rain.

I'll dream in black and white.

More Cake, Less Birthdays

There is too much I in youth,
who can do it alone?

If it were my birthday again,
I'd share it with you,
sing
Happy Birthday Dear-
forget your name-

misplace it with yes's I should've said no to.

Let's do it again:

..................Sing Happy Birthday.
..................Lick icing off cake.
..................Keep presents we should've had but lost.