R – it never could have been, but I always gave myself excuses, why-this why-that. But today, for the first time, I’m thinking things over and smiling. Every tiny thing that I remember and everything you don’t – it happens, doesn’t it? Went for a long walk, remembered the hilarious email I almost sent Erlend Oye when I was 21 and I’d Rather Dance With You was #1 on my playlist.

You never did know me.


Eating Poetry
Mark Strand

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.

The librarian does not believe what she sees.
Her eyes are sad
and she walks with her hands in her dress.

The poems are gone.
The light is dim.
The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.

Their eyeballs roll,
their blond legs burn like brush.
The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.

She does not understand.
When I get on my knees and lick her hand,
she screams.

I am a new man.
I snarl at her and bark.
I romp with joy in the bookish dark.