missed connections foster poetics

Matthew ‘Velcro’ Brown – w4m – 31 (Heartbreak Hotel)

2hermanas — Wed, 28 May 2008 01:25:52 +0000

It’s hard to believe that you’re actually gone. I keep expecting to look up and see you walking in, grinning and swinging a baby by the hair. The hookers of this beautiful city may sleep safer now, but for me it is a hollow victory. I would sacrifice ten, twenty, however many puppies it would take to have you back. I’d sacrifice the nails on two of my fingers, but it wouldn’t matter cause we’ve already tried that and still, dead. Dead, like so many fetuses in your wildest dreams. Let this be a lesson to those of us that choose to keep juggalos as pets. They may be cute and cuddly, but they were never meant to be domestic companions. I can still remember what it was like to find you, broken and bleeding and clutching your favorite picture of Richard Marx. And to think that you were only one hour away from completing his portrait on your thigh. Matthew. While I may never hear the sound of your voice or see the sun glinting off your stubble again, your memory will live on in the hearts of screamer metal fans the world, well building, over. I miss you. I will knock one back in your memory tonight. Non-alcoholic, of course. What’s with your pants, anyway?

Fractal Forgiveness – wm4mw (Slipping Sweetly Back & Forth)

2hermanas — Mon, 05 May 2008 08:52:05 +0000

Not so fast, switchy sweet lover. Forgivness not there yet. ETA unknown. But eventual, yes, darling girl. It hurts for you to call me ill. It hurts for you to call this pathology. Little birds in untouched locales woke and spoke. So this is what you believe, ultimately? Sickness in the main? Someone else seeped in here now – no pathologies there? Only within I and Thou? The angle of your light shifted again. Constant, inconstant: everlasting.

This unrelenting river of remembering rolls on.

i’m 21 you’re 45 and have 2 kids and a husband.

2hermanas — Fri, 02 May 2008 19:46:14 +0000

I know it’s easy to fall in love or really fucking hate someone you work with…but really what are you thinking calling me out of the blue asking me if i feel the ‘connection’ between us?

I could tell where the conversation was going after you worked up enough bravery to spill your guts to me. so I cut it off asap because I was in bed with a hang over and you thought it was a good idea to call me at 9am to tell me this shit so i completely blew you off.. telling you we’re just friends and i don’t know what you’re talking about ‘connection’..*click* the end…

BUT you thought that wasn’t good enough..today was the first day we have worked together since you called me. You even came up to me and said sorry for calling me the other day.

At the end of your shift you write me a note..saying you really wish i got the hint when you called me to see if there was a “good” tension between us. I have to admit ending the note with “please read and destroy this letter” was very cute it almost almost almost made me want to fuck you a little but…. YOU ARE 45!

I know I’m a young handsome boy and I’m nice to you. You have a husband fuck him he runs everyday and is a fire fighter every womans dream. I know all this because he waves to me everyday when I pass him coming home from work…and our houses are 100 feet apart.
YOU’RE 45!

Please leave me alone.

Worn “Beloved” as rain hat – m4w –

2hermanas — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 20:52:20 +0000

It was the way the innards
of a lighter
machinate
forming the flare up
blue flame with
gold on top.

Mating dance,
or somewhere in between
a flensing deck
and a curved knife
of turkish decent.

Or feathers puffed
out forming a face
in which the vague
seems only a glint
in a passerby’s eye.

I’ll wait for you
in the space
between feathers
and knives
where memory is gel
leaking
out an ear.
And i’m not the
one that ruined
anything.

Cop that finger printed me for a CHL in Clark County – m4w

2hermanas — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 20:50:03 +0000

Me: tall, black leather jacket. You: hot female cop. I said “I’ve been finger printed so many times…” Damn I wanted to ask you out.

i really should follow the rules…

2hermanas — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 20:47:41 +0000

13 Rules for Dealing With Sociopaths in Everyday Life

#3) When considering a new relationship of any kind, practice the Rule of Threes regarding the claims and promises a person makes, and the responsibilities he or she has. Make the Rule of Threes your personal policy.

One lie, one broken promise, or a single neglected responsibility may be a misunderstanding. Two may involve a serious mistake. But three lies says you’re dealing with a liar, and deceit is the linchpin of conscienceless behavior. Cut your losses and get out as soon as you can. Leaving, thought it may be hard, will be easier now than later, and less costly.

Do not give your money, your work your secrets, or your affection to a three-timer. Your valuable gifts will be wasted.

“The Sociopath Next Door” – Martha Stout, ph.d.

but…you’re so hot!

You put the ‘broke’ in broken hearted…

2hermanas — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 20:42:39 +0000

.. You put the ‘arr’ in “retarded”

Freaky McFreakster… Why do you torment me so?! This town has suddenly become far too small. The pragmatist in me understands this attraction to be nothing more than brain chemistry and pure projection. But the mystic in me would like to believe there is something more…a karmic/cosmic connection. All I know is I ache when I see you I ache… Either way there is a loss… If I go with the mystical connection, I lose because you are “taken” and I indulge in an unrequited romance… If I go with scientific reasoning, I lose the mystical lover in me. I’m sick of it.

I hearby release myself from the tyranny of being crushed out on you. You had a chance and you passed. Time for me to do the same.

I exorcise you. Now please go away. Or come here and be mine. I won’t settle for the middle ground.

amen and halleluja

Textbook shit

2hermanas — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 20:41:57 +0000

Ok, “magician”, rug guy, ok pal. It is done. Waiting for the sigh of relief to come from behind the humiliated storm of tears. Textbook shit here: put myself at the service of yet another fucked up, disinvested, burned out and bitter couple who did not have it between them to find it or figure it out on their own.

There won’t be a “thank you” to me when you celebrate your finally-connecting fiftieth with you getting all the warm and wet and heart needs met the way they were needed and her having the full range of your now-opened heart. There won’t be an acknowledgment of how this really came to be.

And for me right now, that’s not alright.

Mainly because it’s my fault it happened again that way for me.

Just another middle-class couple who gleaned off some magic they could not find for themselves, got resourced along the way.

I hope you have the guts to tell her just who gave you the counselors you used round one and round two. You don’t have the right to any more covers! GET REALLY HONEST then, if it’s got to cost me so completely. Quid pro quo, Starling. Let’s make this bastard complete.

God GAWD I had better be certain I learned. I hate it that I reneged on myself, my lines, in full consciousness and willfulness I did this thing. And then, surprise: you got me right down inside those places that had never been touched.

What in the hell was I thinking? I wasn’t – I was DOING. Egad I’m sick of me, ephemeral bitch. That was a wasted, wasted three plus years. Good LORD my heart is mad as hell. Really at me, not you.

But I do hafta say this: if you are going to let me pay this cost I incurred, then get really fucking honest and put yourself completely on the line too. You are still keeping secrets to protect yourself and rationalizing them as for her. Stop that bullshit now. You owe me.

So, a promise, making it to me, I guess, since I’m not real anymore, eh? I’m going to get the discipline up to hold the etheric silence and airspace you two need to figure your asses out. But I’d like to know that you stop managing and get totally honest then. Take your licks, all of us. And clean this mess the rest of the way up.

2hermanas — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 03:47:06 +0000

I called you from my cell phone but had completely forgot who I was calling by the time you answered the phone. Of course, you were also baked to bajeezus and forgot to tell me that I had called Cottage Inn.

When you answered and said, “Whatsup?” I thought about it, and after a 20 second pause I told you that was hungry. You suggested I try a pizza, and I agreed that it was probably a good idea.

Then I asked you if you sold pizza and you said that you could make me one. I said I wanted anchovies and something else on my pizza. You asked me what that something else was.

We spent five minutes listing toppings until we figured out that I was trying to remember how to say: “Sun dried Tomatoes.” When you said: “We’ll bake that right up for you,” we both started laughing uncontrollably.

It was the best pizza I ever had; I just wanted to thank you for helping me out.

Giant seeking Merlin – m4w – 32

2hermanas — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 00:23:39 +0000

I’ll share a fire with you anytime.