Stop googling the your broken heart, he said.

You Always Hurt The One You Love - Michael Buble

Nail Me to the Moon,
I am up after 5 hours of dreams sinking into the air mattress watching Valentino on youtube at 7am. I should just do this more often, wake up to see his solid self sketching our wedding gowns. What do you do when you can't go to sleep because your pissed at your cat for putting a claw in the air mattress? I feel like throwing him onto the bed to pop it some more. PS. I made a video for you. A really bad one. Shades of a new york autumn on multiple screens with a hot pink poem crawling out from the center. I wait for the day til' I marry. When humility kisses humility and a hand leads me up a stairwell. I don't ever consider length. For some reason it slips right past me. I'm too impatient for such things. I prefer the point to the line. sometimes. And other times I am late but never too early. Those pugs lined up like teeth on the jet seats make me happy. The jet seats make me even more happy. It is for those jet seats that would give good reason to stop writing poems for a while, sit back and recline into a line break while gliding through the sky. No one cares about words as they appear in a poem unless its pasted on the side of a jet, lets face it. The world and the things inside it are just surfaces from which the greater poem can appear. The materials we use like computer keys and pens are just phases, just brands of mascara I've used for way too long.

At 8am, Poetry is not for us, not the kind of poetry where you sit and stare at someone's overdue facial and haircut usually standing up at a podium throwing around awkward self-referential remarks hoping someone will laugh. Its not in what used to be a church where there's a table covered in old chapbooks no one wants to buy but thinks "how cute" for about 28 seconds. Least of all, its not in the nickels of some travel stipend scrounged together by a university asking you to read with a Q&A afterwards with an audience full of students who really don't give a shit, who really just want to go home and post new photos on Facebook or get ready to go fuck their boyfriends. That's what i would do, if I didn't care about poetry. That's what I would still do, even while caring about poetry. And that's the thing, there are too many goddamn arts to care about. But in the highest form of fashion, there is nothing else. Just lines, lengths, and cuts, and if your serious, fabrics and textiles akin to types of fonts. If Poetry plans to make it into the 21st century, let me remind you for the millionth that it can and won't stand on words alone.

Heart,
Pistol Clip