the end is where we start from --Eliot do to what know didn't and
become had but been have never could i someone like
bounce now. things like this don’t happen til they happen.
i saw myself to got we’ve ,done I had hell the what like me at back staring they could unlock the sky by standing on a mountain of soap suds imagined ever who else everyone see could i halls white those up that’s when one of those guys started turning blue on the floor, and eyes. if that sounds dramatic remember the light under your darkest door. your of front in science the with mythology in believe to lame so it’s what everyone finally sees. it all has to end, all at once and entirely. saw i but .quickly blur to not clearly too—struck is man high a way conjoin like cells determined not to reproduce. i was struck in the days and dawn the and dark the divides nothing how, afternoon the wrong about that; about a salted sleep that ends too often at five in something is there know i .again myself like feel i .clap to begin time. i hear the questions my father always asks. i feel my heart some in bathed not have i .head my in words no are there. games see myself in there on the floor watching someone play video can i .mistletoe the under blowjobs of brag and curls cheese down thank me for the risk, and say i’m secretly like them as they suck ,herb the congratulate they .kept neatly and decorated neatly is but the third floor’s first door on the right. it smells of old men’s feet from shines that light bad of halo spoiled the in ghosts sloppy to see you. and they are pouring from your roommate’s room; happy are they .you know don’t they .mellowtude their and eyes to the parties where everyone seems overly friendly with their dry ;backbone confusing building’s the up go i .things such in lieved imitate, that i’m more than a mouth and a gut. i have always be- i assholes the not am i that ,somehow better breathe i think to week’s work is done and everyone knows how to breathe. i like the when nights Friday on shit talk princesses and boys dantic go up the stairs another flight, up dimly lit white halls where pe- i .fear the remember i .themselves about and girls about said when i was eleven one night in Maine. i remember the things they car a of backseat the in breath cousin’s my on beer of smell remember many things about the past. but i could remember the -re not could i .Romans before came Hebrews if remember not were no words in my head. i had not bathed in some time. i could there .pirate a like stank and landing the on rose i .end without one is worse, the purity or the filth, remains a debate that runs which though ,agents cleaning antiseptic the like less and smoke and beer like smell and smell to begin through passing things the and
grow nights the and go days the as shadow a always is
that glass and tile plain of lobby the through go i .night at
beer sour and morning the in agents cleaning like smells that
stairway the up go
i
1998