that the paper was done?

All I had to do tonight was go through and make sure all the citations were correct, etc.?

Well…

a note from one of my classmates came through.

We also have to present an outline of the ten page paper we have due on May 10.

Guess who doesn’t have one written yet? Me…and pretty much everyone else. It’s not on the syllabus and he only mentioned it once in class; most of us thought he was talking about a certain percentage of class who were presenting their info from those papers, while the rest of us were doing something else.

Guess who’ll be up later than he wanted to be tonight?

Just for that, I’m going to get drunk for my presentation on Sunday. That’ll show them.

All this sadness lately. Just some thoughts. Hope they help.

Spring must arrive before
the frogs can sing. They can only speak
when it becomes clear
that there is something that must be said.

When there is nothing
to say, say nothing.
There are worse things to do
than stand mute before grief
and learn that giving comfort
is not always comfortable.
When there is nothing to be said,
nothing said is a comfort.

A hand on a shoulder
is a branch leaning on its neighbors.
An embrace is a breeze that stirs without chilling.
A face turned upward against the dark
is a prophecy of fireflies.

The way spring comes on — slowly,
until it is everywhere all at once —
that’s the nature of the love others have for us.
What loves us remains present, even when we turn from it,
as spring spreads while we sleep.

owned
by shadows

reviled,
skipped

left behind and
sought off the map

licking your heels
while you run

sudden needle
in your hand in a haystack

wax heart
in a bum’s pocket

invisible tar and blood-flavored nicotine
stained lips

a glance past the barrel of a gun
a restaurant in a reptile graveyard

breathes in your ear
when you sleep

doesn’t move unless seen
from the wrong end