school

is fucking torture

i quit smoking

overnight,
it only lasted as long as i slept

i think

men are more romantic than women
but we never pick up on it

adventures uptown

the tiles at eglinton station look shiny today. only at eglinton would the tiles be shiny. someone actually washed them. a break of blinding greyness enters the train for davisville. i squint my eyes and turn away. i always liked davisville more than eglinton. black women are always reading something spiritual. i wonder if the men i make eye contact with will write a missed connection for me on craigslist. but i guess you have to have a connection before you can miss one. i want to deface the advertisement that warns us not to assault ttc workers. i feel like assaulting ttc workers keeps the city in check. the loveless city. i love to hate this city. wondering about the future and i'm always here. i'm obsessed with isolation. feeling alone in large spaces, not too dense but populated enough to feel surrounded by something. i want to deface everything that offends me, mostly everything around me. including human beings. maybe mash my hand into someone's face or spew water at them like a fountain. to give and get a little life out of this place. others i want to high five or rest my head on their shoulders or tell them how much i just can't stand their shoes. why not high five someone when you felt like it. or assault a public service worker. or tell someone something they might not have known. bloor station. i hate walking along the platform since it pulls you in opposite directions, so i habitually board the end of the southbound train, which gets me closest to the stairs for the east-west trains. i wonder why people always pile into the first set of stairs instead of taking the second set just behind, which is considerably less vulgar in its civility: i mean the luxury of not smelling another person or tripping on their soles, free movement. they look like worms just slithering and oozing all over one another trying to get down those stairs. just waiting for the pressure to burst and make more room. sleeping all over each other like soldiers in trenches or street kids in shantis. everything is filthy where there is too much. i wonder why people aren't in a hurry. but i have nowhere to be. my heart beats slower for a moment then regains its presto. i've got to get out of here.

nietzsche would argue i exploit my own experiences
but i know i'm just full of shit

was it plato or morrissey who asked
if the body ruled the mind
or otherwise,

was it freud or sonic youth
who conceded that confusion
must be sex

it must have been you
to say neither ruled nor obeyed
is the mind to the body

and of course,
sex could only disjunctively
be confusing

save a tautology innately human(e)

you can lay me like you mean it
and hey,
you might as well lay me
in the ground while you're at it

since i'm not good enough
to 'be with' -

to all the men i've loved

what if this ship sinks on time
like the script is supposing
i'm not sure if i'll bail or concede

to death,

or the bitter prospect of survival
in braving this angry sea

you don't quote me

because i am more brilliant
a shining star so to speak
a star that blazes
and dies out
periodically

and naturally so
consciously unconscious

of my own genius
not of my own beauty

i fade out like the winded tunnel

well,

i should have asked you
how you felt about being analyzed
or situated but i thought
it might be intrusive
or thoughtless
i took care to you
and wanted to amend
anything seriously
invalid
but i had a resonating feeling
that you might not reciprocate
my own feelings,
i'm sorry you were upset when we left
if i didn't call you
it means i'm in love with you
and i want to be with you for us
as long as i can
imagine

but i can't hold on forever
i'm only human after all

its unfortunate after all
i mean ultimately -