A'ight.

I started an entry, 'cause I was gonna tell you about the troubles that I'm having tonight, and the upset vibes around the house, but it didn't work out. The entry didn't, I mean. So, but. Devon's brought it to my attention that when I click on "add entry", it adds an entry whether I push "done!" or not. Which means that if I start one, I can't just close the window and be gone with it. It leaves a little weird empty-entry dash thing.

Some I'm going to just sing you a song and that'll be that.

Love, brothers.

*

what I'm looking at
is this stuffed shark that Ely got for me
years ago, high school, vampires, make-up, never gonna drive a car.
he's sitting on my chest
and I'm petting him
with the grain so it's
smooth on my hand.

smooth is what I'm looking for.

I am not looking for a house payment. everybody
else in the world is looking for a house payment.
I am not.

what I'm looking at
is the digital clock on the cable box
whose red glow
would've driven me deep
into my heartbeat
as a child. I count,
and I'm going to bed in twenty minutes, and I'm going to sleep
for a long time, or I'm not.
but I'm going to lay in bed and think
about how
human spend approximately fifty years asleep
in their lifetimes.

what happens when we sleep
is so much more important
than what happens when we wake.
and yet.
everyone spends their time worrying about how to wake.
when. why.
meanwhile, sleep is inevitable.

I've been known to fuck bears in my sleep. to blow
frost onto a queen's expressionless face. to pet sharks.
I sell hand mirrors. in my sleep.

that has nothing to do with a house payment.

get over it.

*

--Alestar