Some In-Class Stuff From Ginsberg Day

I became aware for the first time that I feel unlovable.

Steaming coffee dreams of wooden tables

singeing  the edges of paper napkins

listening to dancing and coughing up

passions and passions.

Told of when a brain picked apart

in inches and clumps of coils

and piles of nerve endings.

Told of when images of angel figures

were dragged, unromantically

from the hands of rapists and abusers and

violent laced alcohol.

The shoreline was a moon, dark and quiet, and

the water got closer and closer and closer

and I felt shadows crawling through the sand.  Shadows

    of bushes and seashells and lifeguard posts.  Shadows of women creeping the wind blew winter air across the waves and into my shaking bones little dipper and big dipper and reflections from the city lights on glass, rippling and orange like fire. 

I do not care to get personal I am

bored with thinking about it.  I just got sick of the whole damn thing.

The shoreline was a moon

I love Buster Keaton

I love German expressionist movies

I love identity crises

I love loss of control

I love fate

I love unabashed passion

I love cheesecake

I love salmon and pasta

I love Kida Haze

I love Peter Lorre

I love Vincent Price

I love views from up high

I love grayscales and pastels

I love my mother and father

I love gold and red

These are a few of my favorite things

Lithromantic OR the experience of romantic attraction with no desire for reciprocation something of which I had been previously aware and forward in acknowledgement something that is warm and gentle and soft and nowhere near overwhelming something about which I am unbothered and open about if asked despite a disposition to the contrary something common in myself but uncommon in life there is very little human connection there is a rare sense of fondness there is a rare sense of wanting to be with another person ever for any reason I have been alone for years and it is no trouble no trouble at all but I enjoy having a place to go on a Friday night where subcultures are dancing to subculture music and that is a place with anyone but that anyone is fleeting and rare and nervous in headlights