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.

Today there is nothing
but what can you do.

I forget that such pretty
words exist and

I tell myself that I
should use them while I can

and today is as good a day
as any so let’s see—

There is a constant hammering
when I go out or stay in.

Something connected to hydraulics
to dig footings for new life

and bricks to be laid upon
that and so on.

And then I think but
why waste a day, though

what isn’t. Or maybe
which— There is

a horrible taste in the
mouth like a

dying beach, like its
weeping sands and decapitated

foam that seems so nice
until it gets in

your eyes and then you
have an excuse to use

the pretty words but
the words do not come

easy like opening a can
for dinner. The words

come from some old
modem. They come burping

if they will come at all.
Posted 01/21/11
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