#20, #21

(Okay, so both of these seem to just be thoughts broken into lines. D'oh.)

#20 Little Brown Shoe

Oh, little brown loafing

shoe. Each day I pass you

on the highway, and I wonder,

who left there, and how, and why?

I wonder if they think about you.

I hope nothing strange and bad

happened to the little boy who

used to wear you. I hope that you

are insentient and so do not miss

your partner. Oh, shoe, little shoe.

I think about you so often--if only

I thought as often about my homework.//

.

.

#21 Friendship

Lately,

though it feels like

an eternity,

I have been disillusioned

with relationships.

I know what you are thinking

and it's not true (I've never

had a boyfriend at all). I

just can't seem to understand

the mechanics of friendship

these days. I am not sure how

it works, how one goes about

making and having friends.

It seems so mysterious and

far-fetched, like Vatican City,

and speaking Vietnamese in

Jackson. People keep confusing

me when they talk about their

friends. I can't seem to figure it out.

I think that I am broken, like a

doll that no one wants to play with

anymore. I feel invisible, like I

am not really here. Maybe that

is why I can't understand humanity.

Like a ghost, I am slipping through

some freezing crack, my business

finished so thoroughly that I can't

remember what it was.//