changes raze two tadpoles in a stream become one enemy breathe through external gills inflate to breaking point with canine gratitude i make adjustments out of sight the words that won't wash off are inked into my chest third degree treachery first come, first disillusioned collapse these lukewarm veins dig out a memory teeth wet with wondering and failed sorcery 140815 ... epitome of incomprehensibility The first two lines made me think. About how literally to take it, too - one in enmity, like one in marriage or friendship (or sex - the beast with two backs - a funny Shakespeare quote in a depressing play) - or two tadpoles fusing into one monster, an enemy of... something. And besides you with the lyric poetry and then my overabundance of dashes (we should fuse intellectually and become Emily Dickinson; she wrote lyric poetry with an overabundance of dashes) I was also thinking about more mundane changes. In the city they want to put mailboxes on street corners instead of delivering to individual mailboxes anymore. They sent a notice asking what the mail receiver's concerns and ideas were about community mailboxes, but not about whether we want them in the first place. I was a little mad, but why should I be? I'm so old-fashioned. The small towns are already the future. You have to pick things up at the post office. 140816 ... raze for me there's some nostalgia wrapped up in having to visit the post office to get the mail, because that's how it was for the chunk of my childhood when i was living in a different city that might as well be a siamese twin to this one, it's so close and essentially the same place. but then there's the convenience of having the mail delivered to you, which is how it's been here. i think convenience beats nostalgia, but only just. i almost typed "convenience beets nostalgia". now there's a soup i'd like to eat… 140816 ... unhinged . 140817 ... tender_square i’m not good with changes, he said. what’s changed? you being back at work. yeah, but—she noticed that she was interrupting, not allowing him to express what he needed to. go on. you being back at work; us being in your hometown a lot more frequently that we used to for days on end; me finishing the book; me going to church those few times and starting my skate lessons; you doing more things on your own than you used to. and i’m not saying that to make you feel bad about taking that time for yourself if it’s important to you, it’s just…there’s been so much loss. i don’t feel protected in the world. i don’t have family here. i feel vulnerable. she nodded. he looked at her expectantly. i’m sorry i don’t move at the same pace as you. i’m not meaning that to sound harsh. you say that as if it’s a judgement that my way is the wrong way. that’s not what i meant by it, only that i wish things could be easier for you. i can’t move at that rate. and now i’m realizing that you’re forced to move at my rate because any decision i make affects you. 220313 ... tender_square he says he's scared of the future, that he's trying to remain open. and i find myself wishing that he'd fall in love with someone else. in a few weeks, i'll be moving without moving, gradually taking apparel, fake jewels, and cheap shoes across the border, staying for a week at a time, alone, away from the man i pledged to stay beside. is it wrong to be excited? 221013 what's it to you? who go blather from