slumming at MUG

i imagine some semi-famous
poet of stature getting an
account at MUG to experience
real poetry again - spamming or
not it's my site and the sight of
this or that word is enough to send
me into a dizzy whirl of wonder - i'm
such a creep and she's so fucking special
i say as i steal the lyrics away as new
music plays and the tears well up but
won't come because the world is un-
wound and undone and now, above a
space without time, other images
come - other moments happen -
other memories form atop
the old ones as 2005,
finally, ends. in
peace, for me,
as i try &
succeed
in moving
on, wandering on,
wondering about, a bout
with myself over words meant
to be spoken or not the poetry is
quite accidental - believe me i
should polish it up as any
east german nice boy would
but instead i know it will
be here for just a moment
and then be deleted except
in the memory, the psyche of
the one or two souls from around
the planet who read it. thanks for
buying the mug, MUGger X103.

i wander into wondering because it's
only one letter away. what type of
letter, though? as a colleague, again
with uncomfortable spellings - unsure
of my pen is the setting. heh. in her
-shey pennsylvania next year, speakin
-g at a conference. i'm gonna drive &
i hope to meet people there and conti
-nue in my career and meanwhile, in h
-ere i write bad poetry trying to lin
-e it up.

but there's something to the breaks, si?
see or not, si or not, sieve or not, i
continue writing, asking someone to
step in and join the cacaphony of
sudden, spontaneous poetry.

help me.

i'm drowning in memory and imagery.

catch me if you can.