1. Thursday, May 15, 2008

    bitter is an ice cream best unscooped 

    we sat on a monument that looked like a gravestone
    in downtown los angeles next to city hall
    it was hot and we were eating chicken kabobs
    in the shade.
    it was a thursday, it was farmers market, it was the first day of summer
    untechnically but pretty much.
    she was young and beautiful and idealistic and dipping her kabob into her small dallop of humus
    as i went on about this or that in the nastiest bitterest most heartbreaking way
    what have i become i thought to myself as it dawned to me under the fumbling fingertips from a thai girls massage
    who is this creature speaking from inside?
    why have i cashed out any hope of hope any joy in love any belief that the future is uncertain
    when did i become a knowitall
    and sad?
    i spewed and rambled and brought nothing good to anything
    i wasnt listening or helping or adding or encouraging
    but i did notice this little boy playing on the monument
    headstone, gravemarker we all shared
    hed poke his head around hers and smile at me
    as i dissed childbirth and creating mini me’s
    fucker couldnta been cuter
    and thankfully didnt know english.