stairmaster

o, hail you stairmaster!
may your i-pod ear buds
aid you in your great climb;
your asymtopical
march towards oblivion.
may you touch god's face!

clean

clean. i want to clean.
boredom has set in. i see the outline of my own nose.
i feel cold hard fear writhe in the back of my throat. it gnaws.
i have to do something to suppress it. so i start to clean my room. not so much clean, as order. to put things in their proper place.
truly, godliness is akin to cleanliness. only if life where that simple; if it only took a moment to order all of existence. if only God cleaned his room every once in awhile. or maybe that's what death is and a coffin is just a small pine toy chest.
i finish cleaning but i'm not satisfied. everything is where it should be but i know tomorrow it'll be a mess again.
breath.
late. (10 p.m.) b.c. aud. Vietnamese janitors eat their modest brown sack lunches.
the man takes his shoes off. his prosthetic foot in one of the shoes. he and his wife laugh.
now, that is the thought that comforts me.
one can clean the world and laugh as if it won't become dirty tomorrow.
the gnawing subsides.
smile. sleep.

3,600

I.

lets start by
saying I appreciate
the warm sentiment.

not that i
couldn't have used
all that money

because i could
of. but i
don't feel entitled.

II.

nor do i
really want the
mess of strings

that comes attached.
so you don't
owe me anything.

i can't say
much because it
makes me angry.

III.

you can be
such a simple
he-haw, stupid jackass

like 3,600 dollars
would make it
okay for me

to look you
in the eyes
as a son.

IV.

but in way
of an apology
know: if i

really needed the
money i have
faith enough to

just ask and
believe that i
would recieve it.

fall semester: a tribute

i'm back.
bitches.