not blogging about New Orleans

...its not that i don't care...
its just that i don't need to add to the number of depressing observations accumulating on the web right now.

i hope that's ok?

anyhow, here's a writing update:

'morning pages' recieves 'walking papers'
-- that's right i'm giving morning pages the boot. what's that, morning pages? no, its not that i don't love you -- that's not it at all. i cherish our time together. we have so many memories that i'll treasure for the rest of my life. you see, i've discovered that i love you, but i'm not "in" love with you. no, you didn't do anything wrong -- its not you, its me. i'm just at a transitory time in my life right now. and...i've met someone else...

...her name is "three to four poems a week." no, i wasn't doing three to four poems a week while i was with you. i would never do that to you. i didn't even meet her until after that week and a half -- we didn't start until i decided to let you go. where did i meet three to four poems a week? why do you have to know? it was at ENG 253, Creative Writing: Poetry. its not like i picked her up at a bar or anything, i'm not like that. why do you say that, of course you know me -- you know me better than anyone else. no, i'm not replacing you. i could never replace you. i could never do it every day the way i could with you. it wouldn't be fair to try to do you and three to four poems a week at the same time, and i realize i have to decide. but you're such a wonderful writing exercise, and i still want you to be a part of my life -- maybe we can get together over coffee sometime? i'm sorry, i never meant to hurt you...you were only supposed to be a writing exercise for me while i was having writers block, but now i have another, in some ways more challenging structured exercise to keep me writing and i have to follow it. no, you're right, i shouldn't have said that, i didn't realize it would make you feel bad. i thought we had talked about this before. all right, i should...three to four poems a week is waiting...i should uh...i should go. i'm sorry.


today's poetry offering:

with apologies to buddhists

with apologies to buddhists
its easy for me
to get to zen

zen
burns when you sit on your knees;
creaks when it crawls with hunger
buzzes when you want to break
your own nose,
but its still
zen:

the world is a womb
which you must bear
to be born
your own fingers working
your own feet kicking
your own eyes seeing the cracks in reality
until they open
to disgorge
you

and finally you can turn around
and see the mother
who's heartbeat is a buzzing sun
blowing through the back of your head
burning through your eyes
like a magnifying glass
flagrantly translating the world

i am still sitting on my knees
i am still hungry
but this is zen
and with zen
you find that it doesn't matter so much

with a little focus
and a broken nose
with a world of tinder, and a little fire;
with apologies to buddhists
its is easy for me
to get to
zen