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Below are the 25 most recent journal entries.

	2007.02.02  18.11 poetry doesn't cure headaches nor does it shelter orphaned puppies, but poetry will hold you as you sip water and when the glass is empty, you won't notice.

	2005.05.07  12.48 au contraire mahatma drinking too close to me pink parted lips so soft displaced by glass puffing around the edges my lips are hard the seasoned jailer of words.

	2004.06.11  18.54 out of bath and wet in bed the smell of feathers of damp chicken farmyard supine and skin to skin but i should be on a plane sitting uncomfortable and cramped instead i race through conflicts destined never to occur and resolve them firmly promise myself yes yes yes this is how it is how it will go no hiding this time i will say what i came here to say yes yes yes but its just the final windup before the big release in the morning there is cowardice and the mourning is miles and miles from here

	2004.04.08  17.35 poet's blues and here you are in a car alone you are irresponsible windows down volume up pedal to the floor there is a song whose beat beats you wrestles with your heart fills it with its own timing takes over you can't breathe or swallow you are drunk with this your heart hijacked you are no longer a driver you are a panic attack barrelling down 95 is it possible for the air to thicken with the soundwaves? can oxygen really become too heavy to inhale? dense and gelatinous like a special effect in a movie time slowing down you cannot be imagining this this must be real this can't be real your car is the body now you are the thing in its head the highway loves love

	2004.02.11  20.22 SESTINA!!!!!!!!!!! the boulder looked more like a pebble but still i figured it might be worth it to fumble with the camera, (the strap curled like a snail). of course the shot would never make it into any great vacation album, such pictures sit in a pile of photolab envelopes, stacked like a pyramid, in the corner of my room. filed away like the arrow head that stubbed my toe in the sand (its arrow shaft had long since decayed i'm sure. ) shellseekers disregarded it as a pebble and ignored it in favor of shells shaped like a pyramid, far too delicate to fumble with, too 3d to fit in an album, they sit on a shelf across from a wicker couch. and what of the snail who once lived in such a shell? did the snail die of natural causes? old age? or did a fish with a tongue like an arrow pierce through his heart (the feeling i get when listening to an album about love)? or was he merely crushed by a pebble? still musing, i fumble through my pockets, find a foreign coin marked with a pyramid-- 15 cents. in this part of the world a pyramid coin will buy you a meal. curried rice and fried snail you buy from a cart in the parking lot of the airport. fumble with your suitcase, wallet, hat, sunglasses, and now a plate. the vendor has eyes like an arrow watching to see if you drop any coins in the pebbles at your feet. this woman is in many a tourist's photo album. she's in the guidebooks you see, those albums of where you 'should' go, though its really a pyramid scheme, or a scheme of some sort anyways, telling you you MUST see the sacred pebble (which is no more sacred than any snail on the beach) in hopes of you visiting the gift shop and buying an 'authentic native arrow.' there a child can steal you wallet as you fumble for change. its really what you must watch out for on vacation, that fumble, i could write you an album of songs about my misfortune stemming from an alley too narrow, a tourist trap pyramid, a must-see snail, those places where street children lie in wait to steal your coins and replace them with a pebble to mimic the weight of the coin, a pebble for your fumble, a photo of a pyramid for your album, a snail shot through with an arrow.

	2004.02.11  08.45 i wrote this in my sleep small and psychotic like a toy dog (thinking she is) as big as a mastiff while faking meek and humble walking through the market where i lost her, somewhere near lafayette and canal, the crowd parted she was there and gone.

	2004.02.10  09.36 the discovery channel's special delivery my gas light's come on but i can still take you to the hospital where i was born where i was told the Big Lie (or i can take you to the places where i learned to walk smoked my first cigarette read my first book lost my virginity got my first paycheck tied my own shoes had my first beer lost both my parents rolled my first joint) they pull you, screaming, out of your mother wipe you off, and say 'oh princess you're so beautiful you're so special.' in reality, you are the same old shit.

	2003.11.24  16.27 oops. tis crap. to use a quote you 'grew up halved' though its more like eigthed or quartered. not drawn so, the amputations are more clean than that. sudden and sharp. you do not lie in the street with entrails running, a crowd cheering or jeering. it was not meant to kill you. no, you merely stumble about crippled amongst the whole, waiting for the next blow to be dealt. at some point along your way you learn the name o. henry what it means, a twist, a surprize you hate surprizes more than anything you deserve to hate them, no one would deny that. but the name sticks and sticks. its like a song so buried in your head that you wake up in the middle of the night heart racing the beat out, skin flushed, breath held. a song that won't let you sleep. surprizes so often come after dark. a phone ring a doorbell hide hide hide. they've taken all your limbs you've nothing left to give hide.

	2003.06.17  12.06 (non-self) potrait of the artist 2 weeks after her 18th birthday she is danger incarnate red pants painted on braless cut up wifebeater razors in her nearly waistlength hair the kind of hair a man has to touch the kind of hair a man could lose a finger in the kind of hair that makes men bleed she is the strongest girl she will ever meet she has yet to find someone she can't pick up she could probably throw you you couldn't move her if you tried she could lift you up and relocate you before you noticed your feet were off the ground but i am a rock i am immovable i hide the father of my child behind me i am steadfast i am the only thing that has ever stood between her and what she wants i am immovable i am a rock her eyes are big her eyes are innocent and engaging and irresistible her eyes are lasers cutting through women burning them making them cower slicing through their puny hold on their puny men they are weak she is strong, stronger, strongest she can take and she will take she can have whatever she wants the ground shies away from her feet afraid of her purpose her stride cracks the cement with its sheer determination she surveys like a shark left right left right she has much to accomplish the world is her ocean the world belongs to her but i am a rock i am immovable i am steadfast i am steel laser-proof, tide-proof, tooth-proof, i am immovable i am a rock and someday she will know that what she did to me was the worst thing she ever did she will know she doesn't deserve any of the happiness she has if someday a woman like her steals the one thing she loves she will know that it is right that she deserves the pain of losing him but i will have won because i am a rock i am immovable i kept the man she took away i am immovable i am a rock ------------------------------------------------------------------------- i wrote this when i was falling asleep last night but i forgot some parts so its not so good anymore.

	2003.05.04  00.58 time 1. i sewed up my belly-button that loathesome reminder of no-strings-attached and a time i slept for 9.5 months (i was late) hibernated attached and warm in a place where i didnt know enough to hate everything when she was on her deathbed, my mother told my aunt that the only thing she wanted with her in her coffin was me (the love of her life). when she died, my aunt stole one of my stuffed animals and put it in there with her somewhere a ghost of me has been sleeping for 16 years 2. i don't fear dogs coming at me in the night a year of living with a mad dog taught me how to fight back. a punch to the nose loosens a jaw clenched around my arm a sidestep avoids a lunge a mouth held closed cannot bite a kick to the face buys time 3. perpetually alone on the train i stare, it is my nature to look sad but on the train, no one asks what's wrong in fact no one ever asks what's wrong are you ok? do you want to talk? because i am who i am i sleep and i fight to stay awake you feel better knowing i am around i'm not here to have feelings i'm not here to be sad to have a bad day to have something to say that isn't what you want to hear i am here because i was left behind.

	2003.04.16  01.35 i think ann is the most generic name i can think of see the problem with taking something to help you is it leads to needing more and more help more and more things she'll be medicated by the time she's thirty, floating over everything feeling nothing but hey... i don't hold onto friendships that long anyway in 10 years i will have reinvented myself so many times (like pills, one time is never enough) from year to year i am someone completely new after about 3 years i am always damn near unrecognizable but this poem's about ann i think i have it now i think i know cuz sometimes i can't sleep either and i think i finally get it the problem is she has too much to say and no courage to say it thousands and thousands of words in her head always boil down to one so she's seen as quirky but not much else she doesn't like the twisted master/servant dichtonomy of relationships the constant switching from top dog to sorry bitch says: 'if i wanted to be so torn about my role in life, i'd be a philosophy major. no no it's far better to have to deal with no one's shit but my own' if it's so much better then sign me up, but i remember when i was there and i too lied through my teeth to pretend i was just fucking fine and i can dramatically tell people about my escape and my recovery from undiagnosed illness but i'm still fucking lying. girls like us ann, we'll never be okay.

	2003.01.21  23.22 age in her haste to get a cab an elderly lady (carrying two unmarked brown boxes) kicked a cracked container of bleach with her black cloth shoe she climbed into her cab, her shoe (now slowly spotting orange) matching the taxi perfectly as they sped away and splashed my jeans

	2002.08.29  02.08 perversion up alone till 6 am every night but there's so muchmuchmuch i can learn by clicking and clacking there's a world inside my bedroom clickclackclickclacktherearepictureshereandwordsthereandthelightisenoughtofeedme and my feet are swollen from walking all day all damn day but i want to go to the gym tomorrow whatgymwhatgymanygymjustagympleasetakeitofftakeitoffithastogo cuz she's there she's there and she lives and she won't quit backbackbackhowdidshegetbackandhowmanypillshaveitaken? and i suppose i'm alive too because my heart still fights to get out of my chest (boomboomboomanymoreephedraandiquitforgoodyouselfishbitch)

	2002.08.02  13.22 the problem is the problem is i don't want to be the blah blah blah at the end of your day and i don't want to feel this bored hate with every breath i take every breath i fake my fingers don't belong so far down my throat disjointed as i am this won't come together i'm sorry you had to read it. ------------------------ 'no one likes to be a fucking weirdo alone' -beth

	2002.04.24  18.19 women i've encountered today girl the size of my thigh crosses the street with more confidence than 10 of me salewoman with a lazy eye is the only person who recognizes me as a customer in a furniture store and not just a kid sitting on a couch best friend forgets to meet me at 3h15 i love her anyway woman in wrap place eats her rice and bean bowl and reads a book placidly leather-clad girl in elevator pushes the wrong button giggles in apology i never saw her face roomate is getting her hair foiled and doesn't look up when i walk in the salon to talk to her doesn't need to she just knows 40ish lady in red shirt, black coat asks for a light compliments me on my sequined sweater 'have you tried wearing it at night? does it sparkle, reflect the light?' she's a poet, whether or not she knows it.

	2002.04.20  23.04 a pantoum you said "you swear too much it's not very lady-like. and i think you should stop" i need to be more of a girl it's not very lady-like your hand traveling up my thigh (i need to be more of a girl) lingering between my hips your hand traveling up my thigh danger sign flashing lingering between my hips i swear this is what i want danger sign flashing and i think you should stop "i swear this is what i want" you said. you swear too much.

	2002.03.19  20.37 cyclic a winter breeze hits you in the face as you exit your building and reminds you of when you were 5 brings tears to your eyes your daughter is 5 now tiny hand slightly moist in your larger, drier one you're 28 and you're finished procreational duties-the way and reason you came about-have been fulfilled your life is essentially over you want to kick and scream and yell and do all the things you won't allow yourself to do but you can't because it's not your niche so you sit and play happy and play pretty and play dumb and play songs you don't recognize the tune for but your fingers glide effortlessly over the familiar ivory keys and maybe you hum a bit but only slightly for fear of being too loud being too improper showing too much emotion or just not being what everyone else wants you to fucking be you drop her off at school wipe your now-clammy hand off on your camelhair coat return home to her father your husband and quick sex on the kitchen table before you both leave for work you do love him maybe that's enough

	2002.01.17  00.47 notmebyme never black leather boi no void to fill no down on youself cuz you are up up up up up like a cd i don't have holes in me none in you and ink in veins and skin (skin skin skin skin) which you don't have throw candy into fan see what comes down down down on my head (her boyfriend's idea) mine is away away minus here equals alone. or maybe one.

	2001.12.04  18.34 [someone's] girl i forgot i really did there?s a girl in the past hurt and betrayed and crying over a broken heart but i really just do not remember i?m reading her mail i?m reading her conversations i?m reading her poems i?m reading her soul and i don?t know who she was i remember sitting in her chair i remember her bed and her dresser and her phone and her waiting despair despondence dejection delirium disenchantment she wrote like this she was like this she is not me fingers spider across keys trying to read and type at once lacking the skill worthless left hand working rarely, rarely. dreaming of days when i was alone (i have days she would salivate for) crack crack crack of tired hands and screaming of brain insulted from poems by and about perfect women and how they consoled her what was she thinking? webs on my keyboard hands deformed and true under florescent light i blow bubbles that don?t pop i do everything except what i should i?ve lost the lightheadedness i?ve lost the disorders i?ve lost the disease i?ve lost the girl and i don?t know what i?ve gained

	2001.10.15  01.48 very much alive cold i don't understand how this thing this air works cold swoops in on wings made of lead hits like ten tons of feathers stab stab stabbing my heart there is no happy medium there is no happy tedium walking to and from and to again and from again and to again and from again and oh god it has to stop it has to i know every step i know every everything i don't even know what that meant i let go of my brain let go of my thoughts i shut the door against the cold but i am on the wrong side i am on the wrong side so now i live without emotions i am drunk or sober awake or asleep there is nothing else i locked it all away inside me somewhere is someone feeling but out here there is wind and walking.

	2001.09.29  02.38 i'd like to say something but there is nothing to say we are all breathing and walking and living as best we can but she is not and he is not and they were two of the best people i knew (people i knew) and i hang pictures and cry and curse the rain that cursed them on this cursed day but nothing nothing nothing i can say will make anything alright and we and their parents and siblings and coworkers and classmates and whoever else they knew can sit and talk all we want but what can we say? what can we say? remembering the last thing i said to her and forgetting the last to him and wondering what it's all for and now it is too late if only they waited 10 minutes or left ahead of schedule or went last weekend or next or took a bus instead of driving but what does it matter? what's done is done can't fucking undue it and here i am weepy and wet but that doesn't do any good either is there good left to be done? or should we just argue about which amongst us loved them more fight about who was the best friend and which among us were merely close and is there any way to know? and is there anything? what the fuck are we supposed to do now?

	2001.09.17  12.53 fallen since you've been gone i've used up two lighters (four days) fluid to flame to burning paper to ash asking me to repeat things i've said things i've done i never knew if you were charmed or tricking me i never knew if you would smile or mock someday when i am smaller my clothes will be too tight for you and my shoes will pinch your feet and the last hole on my belt won't even reach the buckle but i will be so much bigger than you you will look around and you will see me me me me and you will not be able to breathe i will take all your oxygen leave you breathless i don't know what i meant i don't know why i said that you are back. we don't talk or touch or smile anymore and i do all the mocking while you do all the crying it is enough.

	2001.09.09  17.21 ceramic i tried to draw your face but you always appeared on paper with asian eyes you're not and i'm not but i am a china doll chunks of porcelain sticking out at odd angles untouchable sharp bed covered in blood and you ask why i am mad go on ask.

	2001.08.17  02.12 some piece of shit. give me safety blue lines and paper miles and miles white highway stretched out there's a presence i always feel behind above inside around and it scares me away from lines on lines black on blue i am bruised from you scratches and chipped nail polish a reminder of nights and days i am injured but almost safe you almost save me. bring the paper back to me return the lines on lines and dreams on dreams and i will know that you are real.

	2001.08.13  01.27 seam-stress i need a needle. i need a little thread. i need some help here cuz the light is dim my eyes are bad and i can't get this damn thing back together. you are making a dress. i am trying to make amends. the spool is running low and my thumb is full of holes but you don't worry, why should i? i will just sit here trying to thread my needle, feeling far away.