BOOTLICKER

big old poem

2012-08-10

new pear

lint

photographs

bulbs, the past.

numbers

the sky

what it feels to be in love with someone

:

your heart goes outwards

and you miss them all the time

even when they go to do something insignificant

like answer the phone

your thoughts become preoccupied with what they would say or do

all perception of space and temporality is completely unreliable

and money just seems like the stupidest thing ever

everything is so simple but insanely particular

everything happens spontaneously

.

shoe laces

mix cds

whatever is on tv

whatever is not

conversations about nothing

plans to try to plan

houses

favourite kinds of grass, the future.

sounds

communal memories

just being happy