I've been doing a lot of thinkin', and brewin' about my new job, which is getting less new by the day. Here's a couple of new ones based on my latest state of the union...

UNTITLED

Stay out a little longer,
she says, all the while pining
over broken-hearted screaming
like lost children

All day she types letters
and plays her keyboard
like a Chinese flute
and still she thinks
she has no ear for music
Her voice comes over the intercom
"Donald Sparks, line 7901 please,
Donald, line 7901..."
like honey humming over gravel,
laced with cocaine,
daring you not to answer
the page,
and still she thinks
she has no voice for singing

VIOLENT STABS AT MULTI-TASKING

I can't figure out what the root of it is,
but I bring out the smart in people.
I can sense we're all talking too much;
keeping our minds busy
as we do busy work.
We are people with more
than our selves in mind.
She struck me as a girl
in need of some respect
And of course
I would fall in love with the one
impressed by a DIY haircut.

I think

she liked the idea

of the subtle, desperate fury

behind the act:

the monumental defiance,
for a woman with no training
and no money
to grab a violent fistful of hair
and go to town.
I wanted to teach her
to curse with her body
and to burn holes
with her soul.
But the idea
already came from her.