&sic

march feels alright on me.  usually it's the first break of cold times but this winter has been strange.  there have been squirrels losing hair in my neighborhood because it was too warm/wet for whatever fungus to die, i think.  (i get so unsettled by these things.)  the hot belt january tightens around my skull is loosening, anyway.  semel in anno licet insanire.  the leaves will be back soon, again.  i can be in the earth with my hands growing things.  i'm fixated lately on how the years are piling; the pattern and repetition and flow.  three years ago when i moved into my current place.  smith.z was with me for a month and helped me heal.  how callouses of abuse can melt away into strange new formations of you.  jessica became my first best friend since i was a kid.  i could have friends and go places again and not be yelled at.  the last poetry class i ever took when tony gave up on us (no blame).  i gave up on poetry for awhile because it only made me feel insecure and upset.  i never had a loyal mentor or knew how to find one so i would just yell apathy into my own face so i didn't have to feel lost.  i still feel insecure and upset sometimes, but i'm learning to be more bullish, maybe.  keep presenting myself to those i want to be around.  just keep being around.  just keep writing poems.  keep writing crap poems.  keep writing about strength and bravery and animals and love and lust and insanity and non-fucking-sense.  keep writing.  keep wanting to.  keep being around people who want to make things.  keep trying to be friends.  keep singing.  keep singing love songs.  keep being aware.  keep mentoring each other.  i want to be like paul and announce "i'm here if you need/want me."  keep being here.   

it's maybe the longer days, but i get awareness of the developing debilitating postures.  mine lately is that my hands always ache because i sleep with them curled under me in knot fists.  i straighten them out and try to relax, treat them like birds.

when i look back on the year piles i want to feel them uncurl fern-like into some satisfying narrative.  or at least something that would make you laugh.