super small note

Small Ki,

Are you doing well? I miss you.

I’ve been up and down with health and depression. I feel okay today. But slept late into the day, because I went to sleep quite late (insomnia).

School went well… Teacher loved my last paper, though I got a B for somewhat shoddy grammar. I talked with her more and she gave me good advice; mostly she said my difficulty is with run-on sentences.

Boy is CSI: NY very Millennium! Haven’t come to a decision yet if I like it. Am top model, which I’m taping, is so good!

All for now, Baby Ki. I love you.

monday notes

The spider on the wall has been swiped down by Kalika’s small grey paw and gigantic round eyes, innocent and silly. This provides her hours of entertainment during the light Monday rain. Rudra is serene with eyes closed, sleeping so peacefully with his head down. I keep procrastinating my writing assignment by doing other things, pulling up my calendar and marking that I have a haircut appointment the day after Thanksgiving and I must not forget. Set a reminder for two days before. Doors open and close tight in wooden echoey hallways.

Finished watching an interesting documentary on Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love, which mostly took stabs at the idea Kurt was murdered and did not commit suicide. Courtney had funding for the project terminated, so the film remained low budget. The gun found next to Kurt’s body contained no fingerprints, which lead some investigators to believe they had been deliberately wiped off.

The spider returns and we are both jumpy. Now K. is zonked and it’s just the two of us both very awake. I turn on the fan to air out the room. And drink water with Vitamin C fizz. Pour hot water into soup cups, vegan ones. Look at letters on the sign in front of the movie house: “Night of the Living Dead – Oct. 30.”

note note

Oh hey! Super Sweatheart!

Thinking of you is benefiting me big.

I’m sitting here watching a SNL repeat. Got a haircut today. Yay.

Rudra and Kalika have starting saying your name in cute cat language.

Makram from the coffee shop says hello.

Not a whole lot going on, which is why this is such a short letter / note.

Write to me! Love you.

semi-recognizable individuals

Who exactly is this new man moving in the building? He seems to know me. No, he totally knows me. I woke up at three in the afternoon and the bedroom door was closed; sometimes I do this when Rudra is knocking books off the shelf and I’m trying to sleep—I’ll push him into the kitchen and leave him to his devices. Kalika meowed to get out of the room, waking me up to this. I don’t remember getting up and shutting it.

“Oh hey, Glenn,” he says.

Damn, I don’t know who the hell you are.

“I’m back. I was flooded out in Florida. How are you guys doin’?”

Good good. A little low on the memory, though.

Do I have missing time? Am I an easy abductee? Saturday, I’m glad I’m not waking up in the middle of a field.

Mail grab: Nice, a new Punk Planet.

How does someone know your name but you don’t know theirs, or even recognize their face?

Now it is quiet Saturday evening. Every place in Roanoke is easy to get there, though usually once you get there it’s emptied out. My big night out will be to get my haircut and study and write in the coffee shop downtown. I say downtown, I live downtown myself, a few blocks from the stores, from Biscuit World and Straight Street and the parking garage that is off limits to poet terrorists.

• • •
This one I wave to on the sidewalk stares right through me as if I’m not even there (what, you don’t recognize me?). Be polite anyway. Of course I am not coming down the path all psycho and neon and demanding. Maybe a person’s attention is not drawn to the likes of me unless I am popping a kickflip off the hood of their car.

• • •
These are quiet moments in a noisy coffee shop. Devout dishes clang and praise through song. The TV takes advantage of documenting the depressing. I feel depressed enough without it.

Homework writing ahead of me. I haven’t been doing much of it lately. Typing words out just to watch them form, that can be good too. All these voices surround up around as a festival in the park gathering in near-dark. Punch the clock in the morning. I keep semi-recognizing people as streets without names I’m making left turns on.

inside these walls

one of the light bulbs stays burned out
I don’t bother it

I’m glad to be home and
not arrested

no one was actually
but where we hold our poetry readings
up on the roof of the parking garage
cops showed on the scene tonight
and shut the whole thing down
the owner showed up in this crappy mini-van
and said this would have to be
the end of it
the officers would close out by
asking each of us our names and
“other information”

after a few people submitted and
headed out, I followed along
and made it out of there untagged

glad to watch
the two cats sleeping
one shifts, sneezes, puts its head down again

I kick and kick in this room
I kick in the womb
and mass consume

this is a complex world
because there are many worlds
inside of it
and we expect something from each one we come across
it is confusing when
someone says, “stop expecting”
we can hardly fathom not expecting

aren’t we beasts
listening to radio shows?

forgot to fire the homework gun
like the peanut butter and jelly gun
instant essay sandwiches
comparative contrast
narrative research

late night footsteps startle little Kalika
she makes me laugh like she’s so tough
and is going to scare people away with her growls

the apartment becomes dirty again
and I note I have to clean it
a colder outdoors and cricket autumn song
drive again to the coop for cat food
and maybe a salad

liars ought to be slapped silly
until what until they stop their lying
it’s the lying that’s causing
all the problems with the weather

my wife is away and I weep and cry at the oddest moments
as the first month out of four almost comes to an end
it would be maddening to count minutes days or anything
still I count how much I love her as I realize it more sometimes by
numbers sometimes by numbness
and go mad inside these walls



Quick note. Job interview turned out to be fruitless… the hours are bad, and pay is low at 9.50 an hour to start. The guy was nice enough, but could tell he was kind of a hard ass. The graphics position may open in 6 months at 11.50 or so. I’m going to tell him to give me a call then.

Jill wrote me back about Roanoke Times saying the woman in charge is out and will be back Monday. In the meantime, I’ll be getting my portfolio and everything ready.

A new unemp came into today, which I’ll dep tonight before poetry.

Bye for now.

letter for small small


I did not write last night because I was tired. How are you doing? What an interesting past couple of days! I already told you about Beth and Jill, running into them that night, and my new friend.

Last night was an incredible poetry reading, probably the best ever, after all these years! My own reading went qutie well, but this group from Wiston-Salem headlined the most amazing set. My God. They’re Rastas, and called themselves AcousticPoetElectric. Very nice guys, the both of them. My mystic friend I was telling you about, was there actually, and got up and told stories about poetry in the old days of the Lower East Side with Ginsberg, and so on. He even went into talking about Anarchism, which really impressed me. Though this guy is a little pushy as far as giving advice is concerned, I like the old codger. 🙂

Your check came in today. I’m about to go deposit it. $2,176.25.

I have a job interview set up in the morning. And some other company called: a woman from the HR dept of some packaging company; asked me kind of basic questions, and then said she would pass these on to some manager. That particular position is for “quality control” or something like that. Anyway, this interview I was telling you about: I talked with the guy at this company called InfoSeal, and the position is for “Machine Operator.” He said he was impressed with my background and asked me if I knew anything about OS X. Haha. I dropped some science on him about all that. He was saying down the line he would like to transition me into second designer. So I’m going there in the morning to talk with him about the two positions, the more immediate one, and the one on the horizon. However, I’m really shooting for the Roanoke Times at this point.

So Ki, your check is in, and it looks like I’ll be employed with someone very, very soon. We may be sitting well very soon.

Bye for now, sweetheart.

good morning ki ki!


How are you doing, sweetheart?

I’ve had a good day, and evening, actually. Was on my way to the coffee shop and ran into Beth and Jill who were sitting down having a drink outside of Paragon(?). We talked much about AG; they had gone in and were like, “Where’s Glenn?” Linda at the counter: “Oh, he decided to go off to Paris to be with his wife.” Haha. They couldn’t even get the fucking country right. Beth and Jill were quite mortified. We sat and talked for at least an hour and a half. They bought me a drink. I was like, you guys pick! They got me rum and coke. They both are working at Roanoke Times and were telling me how cool it is. $13 an hour with benefits, and it’s pretty chilled out. Beth’s boyfriend is a big Joss Whedon fan. They want to get together with me and rock some serious Firefly. In a few days I should know more about this Roanoke Times thing. From what they described the shit is right up my alley, and if I can get my foot in the door for an interview, then I think I’ve got it. This would be so beautiful, I think, if it works out. Still, it was so good to talk to them. The least I’ll get out of it is some friends to hang out with.

It’s funny because today I got a voice mail from a guy at UPS. I could have gone in tonight and got the job, but as I was telling you, once I did the math I knew it wasn’t worth it. I decided to let that one go.

I’m feeling so much better at this point. That’s all for now, bun bun.

friends and teachers at the marketplace

strange times that
I go out seeking and
they come to me
in people forms
and in sickness
and in health
in song and silence
and more silence

I enjoy running into people
and being animated
using choice words

this man says there is
a lot of healing in my hand

and cussed a little
which made me like him

down to earth guy with long beard
a mystic in the marketplace

we sat and meditated prana style
the kind of breath that makes
you experience
whatever is in the air unseen
whatever is always there in whatever air

it is good to get
out of the house and think
bigger thoughts outside the
risk of going comatose
oh and he said
the Tarot is kind of dark
and drips with ego…
still I turn up one card
a day and say
I have always been
a spiritual person, sir
but now I know I’m seeing
the signs that
I have to focus

one of them is
follow thy own intuition
seek teachers and lessons
and do not be fooled
at the very beginning
careful and
care free
pick and choose

pick up a worry like a dye-cast metal matchbox car and look at it, open the little doors and close them back. a small child will take this incident, and kick it into the corner. rolls on wheels crashes
smack into a wall
some walk through
like the parting
of the waters
you should drink
more water

Gaiman’s desert for fictionally trapped Marco, parched, seeing things, subject to delusions, meets many ultra-unique characters along the way. the soft places. Gaiman’s Morpheus allows Marco escape. A return to father, arm around his shoulder, walking off, Monday night, end of story. Done. See. Sleep sound.

He said, you should go and be with your wife in Spain. I said, it’s not so easy, and that might be harder than what I’ve got going on now. He gave me the impression that I’m just making excuses for myself, that I need more courage. Man, I’ve thought of it on that first day, but then stopped. I’m thinking about it some more. Then again, we’ve been together for seven years. I don’t see anything ending between us. Maybe some time apart like this will be good, you know? Who knows.

(strange entry, I know)

“what I did this weekend”

Dear Ki,

How was your weekend? My days are merging together a little bit because my body is out of sync and I’m sleeping strange hours. Last night was one of the worst with my congestion, so bad that I was awake until 10 in the morning. I woke back up around noon and called in that damn refill. Luckily, it was still honored as on insurance, and so I got it at the same price.

Took that pill at home and by this time I was tired and could breathe. When I went to bed again, I slept till around 7:30. I’m glad to have these pills back on my person again.

Rented Mystic River because I was fiending to watch something new. And it was very good. Reminded me of 21 Grams, I guess because Sean Penn is in it. That guy rocks.

For a few minutes there I got the idea into my head that I would work at UPS here. But after I did the math, I realized I’m still making more weekly on unemp., so it’s just not worth it. I may apply for a $10 an hour factory position that is just for this FALL. If I land that, then we can have at least a little more spending money, and afterwards I’m allowed to go on unemp. I dropped a resume off at the bookstore downtown but they’re paying less than $8; fucking outrageous.

R. is knocking pens off your glass desk here in the living room. The new season of The Wire came on tonight and was good.


“I’m so deep my underwear is deep. My balls get confused in there.” -Beau Sia on tonight’s Def Poetry

“It’s such an honor… to win. The rest of you, enjoy your facials.” -Gary Shandling to Emmy Awards audience.

I’m glad there is actually no class on Wednesday since the teacher has some things to take care of. But we’ll go in for a few minutes and get our most recent papers from her. I anxious to see what she made of it.

Saturday I was up quite early and went to meditation for the first time in a long while. John Perry made an oversight, I suppose, and did not show. Someone should chip in and buy him a scheduler. I can think of a few others in my life who need schedulers. But I’m being nice. Look at me! The first word that comes to mind when you look at me is I’m nice, isn’t it? Yay.

I’m on a four month fast from brownies. So when I return to them I’m going to eat the whole tray at once.

Many Sopranos actors won emmys, and a shitload of folk from Angels in America got shit, too. Blah, blah, right? Just filling you in. Remind me, in case I forget, to tape Top Model for you come Wednesday. Goodnight, small small.

can’t sleep


I was writing you a few minutes ago, but the iBook had a kernel panic, surprisingly, so my notes about how it is 4 am already, and for the love of God, I cannot get to sleep, were lost. So I’m writing again, just so you get this note, something to read while you’re doing whatever in your day, and can think of me; and I do it so I can think of you. Missing you has its pain. That goes without saying. But it also, for me, has a sweetness in it, because it’s forcing me to try to remember you with such power that I can feel you here with me, if that makes any sense. Some things, for example, that I could clean or rearrange, I leave them as they are if they remind me of you.

Anyway, I’m not all THAT awake, after all, so I’m sure I’m not writing too coherently. I’ve managed a copy of SK’s On Writing audio and have been in bed with the ol’ iPod getting through the chapters very easily like that. I’m psyched to have a copy.

This evening read my new poem at the parking garage on the fifth level. It went well. John P. showed up and we chatted for a bit. A big highlight also was that cute girl Angie that you also know, showed up and was looking mighty fine with some other mighty fine girl. She was decked out in school girl skirt and f-me boots with stockings that complimented her already attractive legs. The other was looking goth-ready in a good photo shoot kind of way. So they got up and rather skillfully did a poem/song together that I’m pretty sure made all the males present have to take cold showers later. They were rocking a style that many download and gawk over.

Going out of the house usually leads me into some kind of small “adventure.” I use the word loosely. Pretty much anything outside the house is an adventure if you insist on stretching your imagination. I think it would be a little easier if I had the same cash flow, because I could go out to movies and everything and kind of kill off the pain of loneliness. Alas I am forced to do this in more organic ways. This is the new will of the universe for me, I suppose. Well, on that topic, I’m almost starting to feel these days that I’m actually meant to get out of this graphics business, or print business at least, and do something else. I’m seeking hard to figure out what. Not sure yet if that’s actually writing. The the thought of writing to make steady income mostly horrifies me, but… I don’t know what it is. But I have such a strong feeling that the change is that big in my life, that I’m not to continue on the path of getting burned again and again by all these print shops.

I’m done writing for the night, small Ki. I hope you are well, and am proud of you for handling your teacher in such an up-right manner. Yay little rembrandt!

from Rainer Maria Rilke’s “Turning-Point”

For there is a boundary to looking.
And the world that is looked at so deeply
wants to flourish in love.

Work of the eyes is done, now
go and do heart-work
on all the images imprisoned in you; for you
overpowered them: but even now you don’t know them.
Learn, inner man, to look on your inner woman,
the one attained from a thousand
natures, the merely attained but
not yet beloved form.

Gremlin On The Wing

I inherited the whole earth
the moment I was born
I inhaled the whole universe by accident
when I was in a mood to go out dancing
I stomped my foot too hard and it
went all the way through

just another clerical mistake

my tears were not mediocre
they showered in meteors
evacuating first all of Florida
then the rest of North America

it’s just that your arguing causes
the ice caps to melt so quickly

you lack sound judgment—
I think that’s why you talk so loud
but still don’t hear others

the birds are coming
the birds are coming!
do you hear that?

and everything meek and everything
starting with a capital “e”
and maybe “m”
and the sky the sky too
will come down crashing
but you somehow don’t hear

I will be that 1983 voice in your ear
1984 is coming! 1984 is coming!

this is not revenge in some dumb life sentence
it is only natural that you will be
defeated by my nano-probes

I’m here to tell you it’s not heartburn
it’s the nano-probes

you think maybe it’s the homos
I’m here to tell you it’s the homos
and the heteros

I have put love and hate up against each another
as celebrities in a death match
I have lit the sky on fire with a 7 Eleven match
I’m that virus that will attach and
not let go
that same energy you put into
the back stabbing of me
is that same energy causing our fingernails to grow

what you have done
you have done some of the worst things
I have gotten real small
and not said a thing
until now

I’m that gremlin you think you saw!
I’m that gremlin on the wing

I’m that one dropping you
from 40,000 feet
I’m that gremlin on the wing
you better say your prayers
you better cover up in layers



I’m up early and enjoying reading all sorts of books. I’m enjoying life after quite some time. My face has cleared up almost completely. The meds and that cream have worked magic.

is going well. This class I’m taking is one of my best; she is a good English teacher, this one.

should write me notes on your surroundings, the streets, and so on. I’d love a good mental picture.

you writing? How is your iBook fairing over there? I’m feeling better this morning, so far. Watched a hell of a lot of Firefly while in the trenches. This cold shit is rough.

Big Brother
is crazy. Cowboy, of all people, won the last Power of Veto—the most powerful one of all, because with it, he had to decide who would leave. He chose Nakomas. Now it’s him, Diane, and Drew left. Tuesday is the last night.

is grooming K., all of a sudden deciding to lunge at her like a little goddamn vampire. I brake this up. He grooms her, lunges again. She is now angry, growling, being a little bitch, but I can’t blame her. This is no way to behave. She goes from putting her head down, after he is gone, to hearing suspicious sounds and jumping up wide eyed as all hell.

The Player
I caught after class. She chose the last guy, finally. The twist was he was told he had decide to stay with her and give up his player ways, or remain a player without her. Surprisingly, he chose to be without her, even after he had won! For this, they surprised him with a new car. It was mostly sad and ridiculous. I’m baffled and torn.