I haven’t brushed my teeth yet today. Having risen at noon, it’s not been such a big deal so far. If I decide to gorge myself on sweets between now and the time I hit the sack, there will be cause for concern, but oh well. I was going to get up an hour earlier, but I didn’t think it would do justice to my status as a college student to get up before noon (I honestly thought this lying in bed).
David’s team won their game in the second round of the state playoffs. It was a marathon/nail-biter of game, however. The game was scoreless for the entire regulation period (two 80-minute halves) and all of overtime (two 10-minute overtimes and two 5 minute overtimes), so it came down to penalty kicks, which our team won. I know I’m not on the team or anything, but it still doesn’t exactly feel like a win. Penalty kicks are no way to decide a game. I’ll ask David how he feels about it when he returns from youth group. They’re heading to Charlotte on Wednesday to play the best team in the state for the next round.
To use
the flashing moment in ways the scepter has
difficulty discerning, even–The
templates inside me move, sliding across
one another with a superficial scrape.
I need
the cutless needles that enclose the tips
of her hair: To assume the
warmth of my breath, pulled nearer as my exhales
in concert
draw themselves into her skin. It’s an ambiguous thing, make it
what it means,
lose me, I talk myself into this mobius strip of words. The head above mine nods, and I start
again.
Philanthropy is never that which the sermon wishes, time, and she moves again.
Spinning song lyrics words recycling
the groove of an ascetic scribe;
I express the knots into a frenzied straightness,
only to once again whistle
an aboriginal strain