You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘inbox’ tag.

Inbox says (1) new message
Just then (2) new messages
My God, could it be.
Usually not
Usually naught
Unusually knot
My love in a Sir Mix-a-Lot basket
Spare the spearhead
the spearmint
the spirit man
Inbox says nothing
I wait on the porch, old school.

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Fall, I did today
saw the Inbox, one message
from a name of a person who’s no longer a person
hasn’t been for years
because he’s gone on, on
Billy
Billy who died of an aneurism or a catastrophic stroke
I can’t remember which
brain stem is a bad place for a bleed

Fell, he did
died instantly there in my grandmother’s living room
died instantly but was still breathing
9 siblings and child-like mother as next-of-kin
and none of them wanted to be the one to authorize the unplugging of the plug
so he didn’t die when it would have been an intimate family affair
when they were ready
he died when it was convenient
for the medical staff

silly him,
he died when it was convenient for them.

I think I may have lost my mojo. I’m almost sure I had it at one point. I think I might have been sexy once. Way back, last summer, maybe. The most alluring thing about me now is my side bang, which hangs ever so seductively in my face and sometimes gets in my eye, forcing me to twitch.

 

I told this guy I was a klutz and he was amused. If only he knew.

 

I go to my Inbox and it’s empty and then I know for sure I don’t have it anymore. I may actually be flattered if ever I am the subject of a catcall by construction workers. I might even smile.

 

I am thinking I need to make another mistake, shake myself up a bit. Even if it’s not right, I need something real, in the flesh. I need something not-numb. This is what’s called maladaptive behavior, and I like it.

SOB with me

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